The Price of Paradise
by Little Miss Bump
Summary: Shortly after moving to Tracy Island, Gordon and Alan become lost in the jungle during a tropical thunderstorm. Will Jeff be able to find them in time, or will the forces of mother nature claim another Tracy life?
1. Prologue: The Things We Leave Behind

**Hiya folks! I can't believe that this is my third story! Time has flown by so fast over the past couple of months. But after a very short break, I'm back again, and I'm ready for the next Tracy tale!**

**_This story takes place over four years before 'Unknown Dangers' - therefore, Alan is five years old and Gordon is just turning ten. I will mention these ages in the chapters, but I find that it's easier for the reader to picture the scene if they are not left wondering about the height and age of the characters. Hopefully, your own imaginations will do the rest for you. Picturing a small and cute-looking Gordon isn't as easy as picturing a small and cute-looking Alan, but I hope you'll give it a try! Lol._**

**Again, I do not own the movie or the superb original series of '****Thunderbirds' or any of the characters therein. They are merely Jerry Anderson's wonderful creations that I have gratefully borrowed for the time being.**

**Big thanks to everybody who has expressed an interest in reading my latest story. I hope it will not disappoint. And I had a great time at the wedding, thank you! I am now fully energised and ready to type! Enjoy the first installment of 'The Price of Paradise'!**

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Gordon Tracy sat on top of the diving board, his legs dangling a couple of metres above the glistening water of the pool. The young copper-haired boy was not happy. Not happy at all. In less than five minutes, he and his father and brothers would be leaving their cosy mansion forever. And Gordon did not want to go. He'd lived in this house all his life, and it was the one place on earth where he always felt safe and secure.

"Gordon! Gordon, are you out here?"

The forlorn boy raised his eyes at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. _I guess it's time to go, then. But why? Why can't I just stay here on my own? I don't wanna go to a stupid island! I like this house!_

A tall, brown-haired figure jogged around the side of the mansion quickly and came to stand beside the pool. He did not spot the small boy above him, and instead proceeded to shield his eyes against the afternoon sun as he glanced around at the grounds of the house.

"Gordon, where are you?!" he demanded desperately.

"Up here, Scotty." the younger boy called. Scott's head snapped upwards sharply, his shoulders sagging in relief, and his tense face relaxed into a warm smile.

"What are you doing, kiddo?" he asked, climbing up the ladder swiftly and coming to sit carefully beside copper-haired boy on the diving board. The sixteen-year-old put an arm around his younger brother and smiled at him. "There's no time to go for a swim, squirt. Dad's about to fire up the engines. We've gotta get going."

Gordon felt his eyes sting as they filled with tears, and he looked away hurriedly. Scott frowned at him worriedly, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Hey, what's up? Are you feeling okay?" he asked, concern lining his voice.

Gordon brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them. "Scotty, I don't wanna leave." he murmured, his voice wavering slightly. "I like it here. I don't wanna go to a stupid island in the middle of the ocean. It's miles and miles away from all of my friends, and coach Stevens said that he would put me in the head team at my school next September if I carried on practising my swimming at home. But now Allie and me are gonna be home-schooled over the comm by a teacher who we don't even know! It's not fair!"

Scott regarded his distraught younger brother with sad eyes. Pulling the small boy into a gentle hug, he sighed deeply. "Gordon, you won't always feel like this. I promise. Just give the new house a try, okay? For me? Dad's been improving and expanding it all year, and the villa is even better than it was when we used to go there on holiday in the summer. Dad's even built a second pool, and this one's a lot bigger than the first one. You can still practise your swimming at home, and then you'll be in great shape for joining the team when you go to boarding school in a couple of years. You'll like our new home, I know you will."

"But it won't _be _home, Scotty!" Gordon complained miserably. "This is our home!"

Scott sighed again and ran a hand through his brother's hair, his fingers playing with the copper locks. "Gordon, we can't stay here. You know that."

"But why not?" Gordon demanded. "Nobody has even old me why we're moving! Nobody ever tells me anything!"

Scott put a hand either side of Gordon's face and looked into his sad, tear-filled eyes. "We have to go so that we can forget about what happened last year." he said gently, a wave of pain passing over his face.

"But that's why I wanna stay, Scotty!" Gordon insisted desperately. "If we leave here, I'll forget all about mom. Everything in this house makes me think of her. How she used to bake us cookies and make us pancakes in the kitchen, and how she used to tuck us into bed at night. And the garden has all of her favourite flowers in it, and if we leave I won't have anything to remember her by!"

Scott felt a pang of sadness over how seriously his younger brother was being affected by the prospect of leaving their house. Brushing away the hot tears that had leaked from Gordon's eyes, he smiled lovingly at the younger boy.

"Gordo, you're not gonna forget mom, I promise." he said softly. "Not ever. She's always gonna be with us, no matter where we live. And she's watching over us right now, you know? Up in heaven, she's looking down on us and making sure that we're okay." Gordon smiled slightly and sniffed, leaning his head on Scott's shoulder.

"But why _do_ we have to go?" he asked quietly. Scott rubbed Gordon's back and thought for a moment, trying to work out the best way to word his reply.

"Gordon, you know you said that everything in the house reminds you of mom?" he began. Gordon nodded his head, frowning in confusion at what his big brother was trying to tell him. "Well," Scott continued. "That's why we have to go. It hurts dad to remember mom so much. You know that he's been working quite a lot over the past year?"

Gordon nodded again, his frown deepening. Their father had spent most of his time in his office at home or away in New York for business conferences. He was aways doing something - anything - and he never seemed to stop working unless he was asleep. He didn't have the time to play with Gordon or the others in the pool, or watch a movie with them in the evening, or read them stories at bedtime. He was always so _busy_.

"Well," Scott said. "He only works that hard because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about mom, you see? He planned for us to move away to the island months ago, but the villa wasn't quite finished yet. He wanted to make it as good as this house, so that we wouldn't need to come over to the mainland very often. But dad needs to get away for a while, you understand? The maybe he won't need to work so much any more."

"You mean dad might be able to play with us like he used to do before mom died?" asked Gordon, his eyes lighting up a little. Scott nodded, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, maybe." he confirmed. "But he'll need to settle down first. Give him some time, and he'll start to feel better. You'll see. And besides, there's always me, right? You and I can race in the pool together, can't we?"

Gordon giggled and swatted Scott on the arm playfully. "You're not gonna win, though!" he grinned. "I'll be ten in two weeks, and then you won't be able to beat me in anything."

"Oh no?!" Scott asked, grabbing Gordon in a headlock and giving him a noogie. "Are you certain about that?"

Gordon giggled and pulled away from Scott's grasp, wobbling backwards slightly. He would have fallen off the diving board and into the pool had Scott not grabbed him at the last second.

"Steady on there, fish-feet." the older boy chuckled. "I know you like water, but now is not the time to go for a swim. We're already late as it is. C'mon, we'd better get going."

Scott inched his way sideways along the diving board, standing up when he reached the ladder and descending it quickly. Gordon followed a little more slowly, knowing that it would be the very last time he saw this particular pool or climbed down it's ladder. When his feet reached the ground once more, he felt Scott's arm come around his shoulders.

"You ready to go, buddy?" his older brother asked kindly. Gordon took a deep breath, his eyes drinking in the familiar scenery one last time.

"Yeah, I'm ready." he replied. Scott smiled at him and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"C'mon, then. Let's get going."

They made their way quickly towards the landing strip at the side of the huge mansion, where the family jet, 'Tracy One', was already whirring to life. Gordon ran up the steps into the jet, Scott just behind him, and jumped into the nearest seat. John, who sat in a seat next to Alan, smiled at him encouragingly.

"Alright dad, we're all set." Scott called, sealing the hatch and striding towards the front compartment.

"Good work." Jeff called. "Let's get going, then. I've got some papers to go over when we get to the island, so I'd like to arrive there as soon as possible. Did you give the keys to the estate agent?"

"Yes sir." Scott replied, shooting Gordon a warning glance. The young copper-haired boy, upon hearing the mention of 'papers to go over', had been about to complain. However, after seeing Scott shaking his head firmly, he closed his mouth and looked down, buckling himself in moodily. As Scott disappeared into the pilot's compartment, Gordon crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

_Dad's never gonna change. All he ever does is work. Even when I've been bad, he doesn't tell me off or punish me. Scott does that now. It's not like dad shouts at us or anything, but he just isn't the same as he used to be. He talks to us, but not about the stuff we did at school or the stuff we want to do over the weekend, like he used to do before the accident. I wouldn't even mind it if he yelled at me over something, but he doesn't seem to care about me any more. Scott and John are the ones who look after us now. Scott does most of the work, except the cooking 'cause he set it on fire last time. Johnny does a lot of the cooking, and he's actually very good. I didn't know he could make food like that, but Scotty said that it's because he and mom used to make stuff together before she died. I wish mom could come back. Dad was so happy when she was here with us._

The jet began to move off down the runway, gathering speed steadily. Gordon stared unseeingly out of the window, the grounds of their house rolling by in a colourful blur. Suddenly, the plane tipped slightly and they ascended into the endless blue sky.

"Gordy, look! The house is getting smaller!" Alan cried delightedly, bouncing up and down in his seat and leaning towards the window. John chuckled and smoothed down his little brother's blond hair.

"Maybe you're just growing bigger, Sprout!" he joked fondly. Alan giggled and straightened in his chair, putting a hand to his head and measuring himself against John's side.

"I'll be lots bigger than you when I'm growed up, Johnny!" he said proudly. "And then you won't be able to send me to bed early, 'cause I'll be nearly as old as Gordy!"

Gordon smiled at his younger brother, forgetting his anger and disappointment. "Nuh-uh, Allie." he said. "My birthday's before yours. Whenever you get a year older, I'll already be year older. See?"

"Yeah, Al, I'm afraid that you won't ever be the same age as Gordon and me." smiled Virgil, leaning forward in his seat and peering over the headrest at his youngest brother. "But you'll be six by the end of the summer. And that's practically grown up, right John?"

John and Virgil shared a knowing smile, and the older blond nodded his head seriously. "That's right, Virge. Positively ancient!"

"Yup, you can fly the jet soon!" Gordon added cheerfully.

Alan's eyes lit up, and he bounced up and down in his seat. "Really, Gordy? Really and truly? How old do I have to be before I can fly the plane with daddy?"

Gordon pretended to be thinking very hard, stroking his chin and putting on a very serious expression. "Hmm, I dunno, Allie. What do you think, Virge? How 'bout tomorrow?"

Alan grinned. "Tomorrow?! Can I?" he turned in excitement to his older blond brother. "Can I Johnny?"

Virgil butted in before John could deny the request. "Sure you can, Al." he smiled. "We'll have to tie John and Scott up in the closet before we go, but you, me and Gordon can steal the jet and go exploring, what d'you say?"

"Yeah, Allie, shall we do it?" grinned Gordon, his eyes flashing.

Alan looked a little hesitant, leaning towards Gordon and lowering his voice to a whisper. "But Gordy, Scotty said that it's bad to steal stuff. I don't wanna get into trouble."

"Don't worry, Al, you won't get into trouble." Gordon joked. "I mean, you're old enough to fly the jet, so you should be allowed to - um - _borrow_ it, right?"

"Virgil and Gordon Tracy," came a warning tone from the front of the plane. "Stop teasing Alan. He isn't old enough to understand sarcasm just yet, and he's believing every word you say. Now tell him the truth."

"Why, Scott?" Gordon asked cheekily.

"Gordon, stop it." Scott replied. "I've told the two of you on countless occasions not to tease him like that. Now say sorry. Don't make me come back there."

Gordon and Virgil glanced nervously towards the front cockpit, knowing that Scott wouldn't warn them again. "Sorry, Scott." they murmured in unison.

"Don't apologise to me, squirts. Apologise to Alan for lying to him." Scott instructed. Virgil frowned in defiance.

"Oh c'mon, Scott, we were only joking." he complained. "We didn't mean any harm. It wasn't a lie, it was just a joke."

"Virgil, I don't wanna here it." Scott replied calmly. "It doesn't matter what you thought you were doing, Alan believed every word you were saying. And John, next time can you please try and stop them before they go this far? You know that Alan doesn't like it when you guys lie to him."

"Sorry, Scott." John called, looking a little guilty. Alan glanced at each one of them with a confused expression on his face.

"You were lying to me?" he repeated incredulously. Virgil hung his head a little.

"Yeah, sorry Alan." he mumbled. "We were only teasing."

"You were teasing me, too?" Alan cried, a look of hurt passing over his face. "You were lying to me, _and_ you were teasing me?!"

Gordon felt a little ashamed upon seeing his younger brother so upset. He really hadn't meant his playful teasing to hurt Alan, but apparently Scott was right. Alan didn't understand their jokes.

"Sorry, Allie." he murmured, reaching out to squeeze his younger brother's arm. "We shouldn't have teased you. Do you forgive us?"

Alan looked up at him with pain-filled eyes, and Gordon could almost see the cogs turning in the little boy's head as he contemplated the question. After a long pause, Alan nodded reluctantly.

"Okay." he said softly. "I forgive you, Gordy. And I forgive you, too, Virge. But I don't like it when you tease me. It's not nice." He sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Are we there yet, Johnny?"

John chuckled and put his arm around Alan's shoulders. "Not just yet, Sprout. We've still got a few more hours to go until we reach the island. It's right in the middle of the ocean. Do you remember the island from our holiday a couple of years ago?"

Alan thought hard for a moment, screwing up his face as he tried to recall the event. "Not really." he admitted. "I remember looking at the nice pictures that daddy took, though, 'cause Scotty showed them to me instead of a bedtime story last night. There was a really funny one where Virgil and Gordy are digging you into the sand."

"You mean _burying_ me in the sand?" John corrected. Alan nodded and grinned.

"All I could see was your head and your neck." he said energetically. "And Scotty was putting some shells and stuff in your hair. You looked really silly!"

"Oh did I?" John grinned, holding his hand a few inches away from Alan's chest and wiggling his fingers. Alan giggled hysterically as though being tickled, which caused both Gordon and Virgil to laugh along with him. Alan had a very contagious giggle, and even John could not suppress his amused chuckles at the sound. The older blond moved his hand to the left, his wiggling fingers still hovering several inches away from the squirming figure beneath them, and louder giggles began to erupt from the small boy.

"What are you doing to him now?" Scott called, but Gordon could here the smile in his voice as he spoke.

"John isn't doing anything, Scott!" Gordon protested, chuckling in amusement. "He isn't even touching Allie, honest he isn't."

"Then why does Alan sound as though he's being tortured?" Scott asked. John grinned over at Gordon and winked.

"Who says he isn't being tortured?" he smiled evilly. "Gordo said that I wasn't _touching_ him, but that doesn't mean I wasn't inflicting torture on the little tyke."

He increased the speed at which his fingers wiggled, moving his hand closer so that the fingertips brushed over the loose fabric of Alan's T-shirt. The small boy laughed loudly and tried to curl into a ball, putting his hands against his ticklish ribs in order to protect them.

"John, he's only just had breakfast." Scott chuckled. "Don't make him sick."

With a resigned sigh, John poked Alan once in the ribs, then sat back to admire the result of is action. Alan sat awkwardly on his seat, shaking with laughter and hugging his sides tightly as he panted for breath. Gordon grinned at the sight.

"Alan is nearly as ticklish as Virge." he stated. "At least he doesn't scream like a little girl!"

Virgil glared at him. "I don't scream like a little girl!" he declared firmly.

"Do too." Gordon retorted, smiling at the outraged expression on his older brother's face.

"Do not!" Virgil replied angrily

"Do too." Gordon repeated, knowing that this was the easiest way of getting the middle-Tracy wound up into a temper.

"DO NOT!" Virgil yelled, going slightly red in the face.

"Do t-" the copper-haired boy began, but a stern voice cut him off.

"Gordon Cooper Tracy, stop antagonising your brother!" Scott ordered, poking his head out of the forward compartment. Gordon clamped his mouth shut upon seeing the firm expression on his eldest brother's face. Scott then turned to look at Virgil. "And Virge, you're getting too old to act like this. Next time, just ignore him, okay?"

"But he started it!" Virgil complained, pointing in Gordon's direction. Scott's frown deepened.

"Virgil, are you twelve or five?" he asked. "I know Gordon shouldn't have said what he did, but there was no need for you to yell your head off, was there? Only five-year-olds can get away with that sort of behaviour, and you haven't been that young in a long while. Now, both of you were acting stupidly, weren't you? I want you to apologise to each other."

Virgil blushed shamefully and looked down at the floor. "Sorry Gordon." he muttered.

"That's okay. I'm sorry too, Virge." Gordon replied, feeling the anger ebb away. He could never stay mad at Virgil for very long, he liked him too much to do that. "I didn't mean what I said, really I didn't. I was only joking. You'll forgive me, won't you?"

Virgil smiled and nodded, and Scott let out a satisfied sigh. "That's more like it. Maybe we can get to the island in one piece now."

A short but comfortable silence fell over the jet, broken only by the voice of an angry five-year-old boy.

"Hey, what's wrong with being five, Scotty?!" he demanded furiously, obviously thinking that he'd been badly insulted in some way. "I'm that old, and I don't scream like a girl!"

The other Tracy boys burst out laughing at Alan's lack of understanding. He had clearly missed what the conversation had really been about, but his innocent response had helped to bring back the cheery atmosphere on the jet. As John set to work trying to explain the argument to his youngest brother, Gordon sighed and leaned back in his chair.

_Maybe living in a new house won't be so bad. After all, I've got Allie and Virgil and John and Scott. And if dad doesn't work too much, then we'll be able to do more stuff together. I have the best brothers in the world, even if Scotty has to punish me sometimes. And Allie can be a bit annoying when he gets cranky, but I still love him. The new house won't be too bad, I guess, as long as my family is there with me. Yeah, maybe I can get used to living on an island after all._

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**_In the next chapter, we discover how Gordon is coping with island life a few weeks after arriving in his new house. Will everything have settled down? Will Gordon be satisfied? Will Jeff have stopped working 24/7? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Okay, just as a note, this chapter (being a prologue) was more of an introduction than an actual chapter. I just thought that you would better understand Gordon's personality and character if you knew what he was thinking before coming to the island. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!_**

**_The next chapter will, as I said, be posted later tomorrow. After that, I will be updating every two or three days, if possible. I go back to college next week (hurray!) so I'll be out most of the day and won't have time to type except late evening. I've also got a couple of essays that I want to tweak into perfection - just in case. (I'm somewhat of a work-addict, by the way. I like pushing myself. That's why I'm quite excited about juggling college and fanfiction at the same time! I really respect other authors who do that and still manage to post regularly, so I'm gonna give it a try!)_**

**_Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll like this story as much as you did the first two! PLEASE REVIEW and tell me if you enjoyed the first chapter or not. Thanks! x x x x _**


	2. Chapter 1: An Accidental Outburst

**_Hi there! Thanks for all your great reviews, I was surprised to see so many already! As promised, here is the next installment of my new story! Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!_**

**_Now scroll down and read, please!_**

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Gordon rolled over under his duvet, blinking sleepily at the alarm clock on his bedside table. _It's nearly seven o'clock. That means that Alan and Scott'll be up already. John will get up exactly at seven, 'cause he likes to do things according to his schedule, but Virgil won't wake up for another hour a least. He can be kinda lazy in the mornings. Oh well, I'd better get up. My stomach's grumbling._

Heaving himself out of bed, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, looking around at his bedroom. The last of his belongings had finally been unpacked, and the large room had actually begun to _feel _like his bedroom. His walls were covered in posters of sharks and dolphins, and glow-in-the-dark fish were stuck to his ceiling. Everything was laid out just how it had been in the old house. Scott had seen to that. He had personally helped Gordon to organise his room the way he liked it, and had done the same for both Alan and Virgil. Only John had wanted to do it on his own, as the star-loving Tracy had set up a solar system on his bedroom ceiling, and he'd wanted to lay it out as accurately as possible. As Scott's knowledge on the stars was rather limited, he had gladly permitted his younger brother to work on his own.

Gordon walked across his room, hissing in pain as he stepped on something sharp. Hopping up and down on one foot, he looked at the floor to see what the offending item was. A small metal bolt sat innocently before him, it's pointed edges gleaming triumphantly. Gordon frowned in annoyance, picking up the bolt and dropping it into the box on his desk. The object was part of his 'make it yourself' remote-control speed boat set, which he had received as past of his birthday present. It was a great kit, but the large number of pieces meant that Gordon often found himself stepping on nuts and bolts that had somehow escaped his eye when he searched for missing parts.

Gordon sighed again as he entered is small bathroom. He still wasn't happy. They had moved to the island nearly three weeks ago, and still their father was always hard at work in his office. After a couple of days of unpacking and organising furniture, the Tracy patriarch had slipped back into his usual routine of working, eating and sleeping. Gordon did not see him except at mealtimes, and often Jeff would slip off before he had finished his food to answer a dozen phone calls or emails from Tracy Industries clients. Nothing had changed.

After showering swiftly and changing into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Gordon quickly brushed his teeth and headed out of his room. He walked down the corridor and descended a flight of stairs, jogging in the direction of the dining room. As he neared his destination, the smell of toast hit his nostrils and his stomach growled loudly. Rounding the corner, he entered the room.

"Morning, squirt!" Scott smiled, setting down a jug and handing the glass of juice to Alan. The smaller boy accepted it with both hand, spilling a few drops as he put it down heavily beside his cereal bowl.

"Hey, Gordy!" Alan smiled. "Did you have nice sleep?"

Gordon smiled and came to sit beside his younger brother. "It was okay. The birds woke me up pretty early this morning, but I managed to get back to sleep after that. How 'bout you?"

Alan grinned and picked up his spoon again. "I waked Scotty up this morning 'cause I wasn't tired, and he wasn't very happy about that. He made me go back to bed."

Scott stood up and rounded the table with the jug of juice, ruffling Alan's hair as he passed by. Leaning over Gordon's shoulder, he poured the yellow liquid into the boy's glass.

"That's because you woke me up at four-thirty, Sprout." he chuckled, setting the pitcher down again and returning to his seat. "That was a little too early to be starting breakfast."

Gordon grinned and grabbed a piece of toast and the peanut butter. "But Scotty, you love getting up real early in the morning!" he said sweetly.

"Not _that _early, Gordo." Scott frowned. "I may be an early riser, but I do have to draw the line somewhere."

"You can't draw a dot, let alone a line!" joked John, striding into the room. "Virge stole all your artistic talent."

Gordon giggled as Scott shot a glare at the blond teenager. "That's not true, Johnny." Gordon stated around a mouthful of toast, choosing to defend his eldest brother for once. At Scott's warning glance, he swallowed before trying to speak again. "Scott can draw planes and stuff when he wants to."

Scott beamed at him proudly. "See, John? At least one of my brothers loves me!"

Alan looked up in shock. "I love you, Scotty!" he declared sincerely. Scott smiled at him affectionately.

"Thank you, Allie." he said. "I love you, too."

Gordon made retching noises, earning himself a clip around the ear from Scott and a giggle from his younger brother. Gordon grinned and, when Scott returned his attention back to his breakfast, proceeded to pull ridiculous faces at the eldest Tracy son. Alan covered his mouth with his two little hands, trying not to giggle out loud. Without looking up from his plate, Scott sighed deeply and shook his head.

"Gordo, quit looking like a baboon and eat your toast." he said calmly. Gordon forcefully shoved the last of his toast into his mouth and did a mock bow towards his older brother.

"Who looks like a baboon?" Virgil asked, walking into the room and running a hand through his hair. Scott, who had been about to scold Gordon over his less than desirable table manners, turned to smile at Virgil.

"Hey, man! You're up early." he commented, clapping the younger boy on the shoulder as he took the seat beside him. Virgil sighed and nodded, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"It's against my will, trust me." he said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "Those stupid parrots or whatever they are keep screeching the house down right outside my bedroom window!"

Scott chuckled softly. "You'll adapt, Virge. You always do. Soon, only one of _us_ screaming will wake you up in the morning."

Virgil gave him a playful shove, sipping at his drink as his eyes glanced around the table. He frowned at the empty seat. "Where's dad?" he inquired.

"He had his breakfast in his office." Scott replied. "He said he had some work to do."

Gordon, who had just finished swallowing down the last of his juice, slammed his glass onto the table-top moodily. "What a surprise." he muttered darkly.

"Gordon." Scott said quietly. "Don't start."

"Don't start what, Scott?" the copper-haired boy retorted. "Don't start tellin' the truth?! Don't start saying just how unfair it is that dad doesn't care about us any more?!"

"Gordon, that's enough." Scott warned, frowning at him sternly. But Gordon had now worked himself into a temper, and Scott's command only served to heighten his anger.

"No, it's not enough!" Gordon shouted, throwing his napkin onto his empty plate and standing up. "You lied to me, Scott! You said that dad would change when me moved here, but he hasn't! I hate you!"

With that, he ran out of the room, missing the hurt look that passed over his eldest brother' face. Flying down the corridors to his bedroom, he slammed the door loudly and fell onto his bed, pulling his soft toy dolphin towards him and crying silently. Immediately, he began to regret what he had said to Scott.

_I don't hate him, honest I don't. I love him a lot. But sometimes I just get so angry with him! Why doesn't he see the way that dad's ignoring us? Am I the only one who cares?_

Gordon lay on his bed and stared out of the window for what felt like hours, his guilt burning through him like fire. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut like John and Virgil? They never yelled stuff like that at Scott when they got angry. And John hardly ever lost his temper. It just wasn't fair!

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door. Gordon pulled his pillow over his head and huffed moodily.

"Go 'way!" he mumbled.

"Gordy, it's me, can I come in?" came the high and innocent voice of Gordon's only younger brother. Gordon sighed and sat up. _Alan didn't do anything wrong. And he's only little. I don't wanna make him upset, too._

"Yeah, Allie, you can come in." he called, sitting up and wiping his eyes hurriedly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so that he faced the door.

The door opened, and Alan shuffled into the room, closing the door again behind him by pushing his back against. The small boy smiled at him happily, before looking concerned and running up to the bedside.

"Gordy, you've been cryin'!" he cried worriedly, heaving himself up onto the bed beside his brother. He put his two little arms around Gordon's waist and leaned his head against the older boy's side. "It's okay, I'll make it better."

Gordon smiled tearfully down at his baby brother, feeling his heart warm. "Thanks, Allie." he said softly. "You're really good at doin' that."

"I know." Alan replied simply, patting Gordon on the back. Gordon sighed and put his arms around Alan's body, holding the little boy closer to him. After a long and comfortable pause, Alan raised his head and stared questioningly into Gordon's eyes. "Why did you yell at Scotty?"

Gordon bit his bottom lip and looked away. "I was mad, Allie. Not at Scott, but - I was just mad, that's all."

Alan nodded in apparent understanding. "But you made Scotty sad when you yelled at him. He didn't even finish breakfast, 'cause he went to his room and he looked real sad when he left. I think you hurt him on the inside when you yelled at him."

Gordon felt his guilt increase painfully. "I didn't mean to hurt him, Allie. Honest I didn't."

Alan nodded again, hugging Gordon tighter. "I know, Gordy. But you need to say sorry and make him feel better like I'm doing with you, 'kay?"

Gordon smiled at Alan's ability to calm a situation down. His younger brother probably had no idea what the argument had been about, but his innocent affection and lack of complete understanding always helped to smooth out an argument.

"Okay, Allie, I'll go and apologise." Gordon said reluctantly. Alan smiled happily.

"See? I made it all better!" he stated proudly. Gordon chuckled and hugged Alan again.

"Thanks, Al." he said affectionately. Alan stretched upwards and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome, Gordy." he replied. "Now go and say sorry to Scotty, then you and me can go swimmin' on the pool, 'kay?"

Gordon grinned at his little brother. "Now that sounds like a great idea, Allie! You go get your swim-shorts on and ask John and Virge if they want to come too, alright? I'll meet you by the pool after I've talked to Scott."

Alan smiled in excitement. "'kay, Gordy, I'll go put on my swim-shorts. Can we play with the ball when we go swimmin'?"

"Yeah, sure thing." Gordon agreed, standing up and taking his little brother's hand. "C'mon, let's go."

They didn't have to go far. Alan's bedroom was next door to Gordon's, and Scott's was just beyond that. After making sure that Alan had found his shorts, Gordon walked slowly up to Scott's bedroom door and knocked gently.

"Come in?" Scott called. Gordon pushed the door open and peered hesitantly into the room. Scott sat at his desk, a pen in one hand and a science book in the other. He glanced up at Gordon as the boy entered, and set the objects down slowly.

"Hi, Scott." Gordon mumbled, staring intently at the floor as he pushed the door closed behind him. He felt the guilt rising up in him once again, and fresh tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Looking up again, he noticed that Scott was gazing at him steadily. Slowly, his older brother opened his arms towards the copper-haired boy, his gentle face soft and loving. Gordon ran into Scott's embrace, hugging him tightly as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Scotty." he sniffed. "I didn't mean it, really I didn't. I don't hate you, I promise I don't! I was just mad and - and - I'm sorry!"

Scott scooped the younger boy up and settled him on his lap, rocking him gently. "I know you didn't mean it, Gordon." he said softly. "I know you were just upset about dad working all the time. It's alright, I forgive you."

Gordon sniffed again, leaning his head on Scott's shoulder. "Are you gonna punish me?" he asked timidly. Scott sighed and hugged him closer.

"I think you've punished yourself enough." he said thoughtfully. "You've apologised to me, which shows me that you really are sorry. So no, I won't punish you - this time. But I don't ever want to hear you telling somebody that you hate them, alright? It's rude and hurtful, and I won't allow it, d'you understand?"

"Yes, Scotty." Gordon murmured. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"That's more like it." Scott smiled, resting his chin on top of his brother's head. "Now, what are you gonna do this morning?" he asked, rubbing Gordon's back gently. Gordon wiped away his tears with the back of his hand and smiled.

"Alan and me are gonna go swimming." he replied.

"Alan and _I_, Gordo." Scott corrected fondly. "That sounds like a good idea, the weather's pretty humid today. It's been over an hour since breakfast, so it's safe for you two to go swimming now. Just remember that Alan is only little, and he's not as good at swimming as you. Be gentle with him, okay?"

"I will, Scotty." Gordon said sincerely. "And I always make sure that there's a float in the water in case he gets tired or something. I'll look after him."

"Good boy." Scott replied, kissing his copper locks and setting him down on the floor again. "Now, off you go. I want to study for a little while."

"'Okay. Love you, Scotty." the younger boy smiled. Scott ruffled his hair affectionately.

"I love you too, kiddo. I'll be out in a little while to play with you and Alan in the pool, okay?" he grinned. The smaller Tracy nodded and bounced out of the room, being sure to close the door behind him so that Scott wouldn't be disturbed whilst he studied.

Gordon trotted off happily, his heart feeling light once again. Scott loved him, and hadn't even punished him for his rude outburst earlier on. He had the best older brother in the world.

_Even if dad is too busy to look after us, at least we'll always have Scotty. Maybe I'll just give dad a little more time to settle down. Scotty's always right about everything, so dad won't always behave this way. I'll just be really good, and maybe he'll want to come play with us later._

His mind at peace, Gordon changed into his swim-shorts and grabbed his inflatable ball. The pool was calling to him, and he was all too willing to obey it's commands. Sometimes, he mused, it seemed that John was right about him. Perhaps he was half-fish after all.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, we see a little more of Jeff's work obsession. Does he realise this himself? And what will Scott do in order to get John into the pool? Find out in a couple of days' time! _**

**_Okay, all done for today. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. As I said, the next update will be posted on Wednesday evening, so keep your eyes peeled! PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your helpful comments and concrit, you know how much I love to hear from you!_**

**_See you later, my friends!_**

**_x x x x x x x_**


	3. Chapter 2: All Work, No Play

**_Yay! Another update! College stuff is going well, so I decided to post the chapter early this morning before I had to go and catch the bus! I finished typing it last night, so I thought - "Why not?" - and submitted it now. I'm gonna go run out the door in about thirty seconds to get to college. Lol._**

**_A big 'Thank you' to all those who have reviewed my last chapter, particularly criminally charmed for the helpful typos pointer! I took all your comments and requests to heart and have really been encouraged by your enthusiasm. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_**

* * *

"SCOTT! PUT - ME - DOWN!"

Gordon looked up in surprise as he heard the yell echo from inside the villa. Treading water, he glanced across towards the other side of the pool and flashed Virgil a questioning stare. The other boy just shrugged and threw the ball towards him, swimming over to Alan and lifting him out of the pool and above his head. As Virgil's body was in the middle of its growth spurt, he could use his height to his advantage. Alan giggled as Virgil dropped him back down into the water, sending a huge spray of droplets into the air. However, the cheerful atmosphere was disrupted by yet another loud cry from within the house.

"I AM GOING TO **KILL **YOU!" the voice screeched. This time, both Alan and Virgil stopped playing, looking towards the villa with bemused expressions.

"Johnny sounds mad."Alan remarked in surprise.

"Really mad." Gordon agreed. "That's odd."

"C'mon, let's go see what's up." suggested Virgil. The three boys hurriedly made their way to the side of the pool and heaved themselves out, Virgil partially lifting Alan as the smaller boy was struggling to pull himself up onto the side. As they began to approach the steps, two struggling figures emerged from the villa.

"Scotty, what are you doing?" Alan asked in interest, watching as the eldest Tracy son forcefully dragged the second-eldest down the steps and towards the pool. Scott paused long enough to grin at the younger boy, tightening his grip around John's waist.

"Making sure that John has a good time." he explained, pulling the blond teenager closer to the edge. John reached out and grabbed hold of the stair rail with both hands, planting his feet firmly in place on the ground.

"Do I look like I'm having a good time?!" he demanded, but the grin on his face belied the stern tone of his voice. Scott set himself back on his heels, using his weight to pull backwards in an attempt to dislodge his younger brother from the rail. However, John held fast.

"Ha! Try and move me now, Scooter!" he cried. "I am _not_ letting you throw me into that pool, you hear?"

"Gordon, tickle him!" Scott grinned, knowing that John would not be able to retain his hold if he was under this type of torture. Gordon beamed and ran up to John's side, running his wiggling fingers over the older boy's ticklish ribs.

"NO!" John screamed, writhing from side to side as he tried to shake off his younger brother's attack. "I'm not giving in! NEVER!"

Virgil, Scott and Alan laughed as Gordon proceeded to tickle John under the arms, eliciting loud giggles from the squirming teenager. After a few moments, John could take no more, and his firm grip on the bar loosened enough for Scott to drag him away.

"Yes!" Scott cried triumphantly. "Alright, Johnny-boy. You ready for a nice big splash?"

"No, no, no, no, no!" John protested, laughing as Scott continued to push him closer and closer to the edge of the pool.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Scott replied, grinning evilly. "Fun time, Johnny! Ready? One...two...three - Whoopee!"

With a final shove, he sent John over the edge and into the pool with an almighty 'SPLASH!' The remaining Tracy boys cheered victoriously, gathering around Scott to admire the spluttering teenager in the water.

"Scott, get your butt into this pool RIGHT NOW!" John demanded, splashing the surface of the water with a finger for emphasis. "It's payback time!"

"In your dreams, John!" Scott laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not gonna let you get at me that easily. You'll have to - whoa!"

Gordon had given his eldest brother a hard shove in the small of his back, causing him to stumble onto the very edge of the poolside. Scott teetered on the edge momentarily, flapping his arms about in an attempt to right himself. However, this only caused him to look like some sort of demented bird. Then he lost his balance entirely, sending up a huge wave of spray as his body hit the water. As the brown-haired teenager emerged, spluttering in surprise, Gordon grinned.

"I only do it because I love you, Scotty." he said sweetly. Scott growled in his throat and lunged towards him, grabbing him around the legs and pulling him into the water. Gordon kicked away from his older brother's grasp, swimming underwater the entire length of the pool and surfacing with a gasp.

"Over here, slow-poke!" he called, grinning as Scott turned in surprise towards him.

"Wow, that was pretty fast, kiddo." his older brother remarked, swimming towards him. "But lets see how well you do against both myself _and _John, hmm? Prepare to be turned into fish-sticks!"

Gordon smiled and got ready to dive underwater again. This was going to be fun.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Jeff Tracy sat in his office, tapping his pen impatiently against the reports on the desk."No, Mr. Salenti," he sighed, trying not to snap at the business client over the phone. "I've told you already that I can't make it to any conferences after the twentieth. My three eldest children will be off to boarding school, and I can't leave my two youngest at home on their own."

"I see, Mr. Tracy." the man replied, his accented voice droning on slowly in an agitating manner. "I will make sure that my associates are informed of this matter. And now addressing the issue of the conference that takes place in three days, will you be able to attend the meeting, or shall we postpone it because of - ah - family matters?"

Jeff sighed again and flicked through his diary, scribbling the words _'business conference - Boston'_ on the correct page. He set down his pen and rubbed a hand through his hair.

"No, I'll be there. Have my secretary give you my arrival details, and I'll meet you outside the conference hall to discuss the business transaction before the meeting begins. Is that alright with you?"

"That sounds just fine, Mr. Tracy." Salenti replied slowly. "I look forward to seeing you. Good day to you."

"Good day, Mr. Salenti." Jeff said, before ending the call and setting the phone back down on it's stand beside the computer. He quickly pressed a few keys on his hand-held touch-screen, sending a short email to his secretary with the details Mr. Salenti would be asking for.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. Picking up his report sheet again, he flipped over to where he had last left off and highlighted another paragraph.

"Come in." he called, frowning at the stupidity of one of the propositions on the sheet before him. He heard the door open, and the sound of soft footsteps approaching his desk.

"Dad, lunch is nearly ready." Virgil informed him quietly. "John wants to know if you'll be eating with us, or whether he should leave you some sandwiches in the fridge."

Jeff glanced up momentarily at his middle-child, noticing the damp hair. Apparently, his children had been enjoying the pool again. _Good thing I thought to build that bigger pool. I think the boys would have quickly become bored without it. All they ever seem to do is swim. Especially Gordon. He's quite a good swimmer, actually. Lucy used to-_

He swallowed painfully as his chest tightened, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. _I shouldn't think about the past. Just focus on the here and now, Jeff. Forget about what happened. Right, I - I need to get back to work._

"I'll eat something later, son." he said lightly, frantically jotting down notes and suggestions on the side of the sheet of paper in his hand. "I need to get this finished."

He was too absorbed in his work to notice the disappointed look that passed over Virgil's face, and the way that his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay, dad." the boy replied softly. "See you later, then. Oh, me and John were thinking of going down to the beach later to look for crabs for my project. Is that okay?"

"Sure thing." Jeff said absent-mindedly, scribbling out his last sentence and chewing the end of his pen thoughtfully. "Have a nice time."

The phone rang again, and the Tracy patriarch picked it up and held it to his ear.

"Jeff Tracy speaking, how may I help you?" he answered automatically. He focused his mind back on his work as he listened to the voice at the other end of the line. "Mr. Cobalt, good to hear from you. Are the exports to Japan ready to be sent off yet?"

Virgil sighed and turned away sadly, heading out of the office and closing the door behind him, leaving Jeff to get back to his work in peace.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

John set the huge plate of sandwiches down on the table, wiping his hands on a cloth and sighing in satisfaction._ I'm getting pretty good at this. And I honestly don't mind, either. It helps me to think about mom when I make food for the others. I just wish that dad could eat with us more often. Oh well, maybe he can have lunch with us today._

"Is it ready?" Scott asked, setting down a pitcher of lemonade and a bowl of salad beside the large plate. When John nodded, Scott cupped a hand around his mouth and turned his head towards the door. "Alan, Gordon, lunch is ready!" he called.

Two pairs of pattering feet could be heard charging down the corridor, accompanied by loud shouts and giggles. A small, blond-haired boy rushed in and hid behind Scott's legs, giggling uncontrollably. Gordon followed close behind him, leaning against the frame of the doorway and grinning evilly.

"Scotty, Gordy's gonna eat me!" Alan giggled, clinging to Scott's shorts as his copper-haired brother pretended to growl at him menacingly. Scott laughed and picked Alan up under the arms, swinging him around in a circle and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Is he indeed?" he asked, smiling broadly and balancing Alan on his hip. "What do you think we should do about that, Sprout?"

Alan thought hard for a moment. "We could throw him in the pool like you did to Johnny." he suggested.

"Or," Scott chuckled, setting Alan down on the ground and ruffling his hair affectionately. "We could fill him up with sandwiches so that he won't be hungry any more. How does that sound?"

"Okay." Alan agreed, taking his seat beside Gordon and bouncing up and down happily. John snorted and took the seat across from him.

"I liked Alan's suggestion better." he muttered. Scott grinned and punched him lightly on the arm. Alan, upon seeing this, turned to Gordon and punched him - not so lightly - on the arm, in an attempt to copy his older siblings.

"OW!" Gordon complained, rubbing the area and frowning. "What was that for?!"

"Alan, we don't hit people, do we?" Scott scolded gently, not realising the true reason behind Alan's action. "Apologise to Gordon, please."

"But - but - " Alan stuttered defiantly, not understanding why he was in trouble. After all, he'd done exactly what Scott had done. And if Scott had done it, it couldn't be anything particularly bad, could it?

"No buts, Sprout." Scott stated calmly. "Say sorry."

"But - but-" Alan persisted, his eyebrows knotting together in confusion.

"Alan, I'm not gonna ask you again." Scott warned, staring intently at his youngest brother with a firm expression. "Don't make me start counting."

"But Scotty, I-" Alan protested. Scott raised and eyebrow.

"One." he said slowly. Alan swallowed and tried to figure out a way to word his confusion.

"Scotty, what did I-" he began.

"Two." the older boy continued, his other eyebrow rising up to meet its partner. Alan, knowing only too well of the consequences if his older brother reached 'three', shot a worried glance in Gordon's direction and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out desperately, still at a loss as to what he had done wrong, but wanting very much to avoid being punished. Scott nodded for him to continue. When a Tracy apologised, they were supposed to name their fault and then ask for the other person to forgive them. But the problem was, Alan didn't know what he was supposed to be sorry about.

"What are you sorry about, Alan?" Scott prompted. The younger boy sighed in frustration.

"I don't know, Scotty!" he cried. "What did I do?"

"You hit me on the arm, that's what you did!" Gordon stated moodily, pouting in a hurt fashion. Alan pointed towards his oldest brother defiantly.

"Scotty hit Johnny and _he_ didn't get yelled at!" he complained. "Why am I getting into trouble for hittin' Gordy?!"

Scott blinked in surprise momentarily, before bursting out laughing. "Oh Sprout, I'm sorry." he chuckled, as John broke into a grin. "I didn't know that was why you hit Gordon. And besides, I wasn't _hitting_ John. I was - I was - I was just doing something else. But next time, don't try and copy me, okay? Wait until you're a little bit older."

"How 'bout when I'm six?" Alan suggested helpfully. "Is that old enough, Scotty? Can I hit Johnny when I'm six?"

Gordon and John laughed uproariously, and Scott practically fell off his chair as he held his sides and shook with laughter. Yet again, the youngest Tracy had completely missed the point of the conversation. Alan regarded them with a bemused expression, looking up at Virgil as the older boy entered the room.

"Virge, what did I say?" he asked. "What's so funny? Why are they all laughing at me?"

Scott managed to get his breath back long enough to sit up straight and smile at Virgil. "Hey bro, where've you been?" he gasped.

"Asking dad if he was gonna have lunch with us today." Virgil explained, taking his seat next to John's and resting his arms on the table.

"And?" Scott inquired, already knowing the answer from his brother's body language. Virgil shook his head sadly.

"He's talking to some guy on the phone about a business deal or something." he murmured. "He said that he'd eat later."

John tried to break the somber mood that had fallen over the table. Smiling cheerfully, he stood to his feet. "I'll just put a plate in the fridge for him, then."

Taking four sandwiches from the large plate in the middle of the table, he strode towards the kitchen to follow through with his task. Scott sighed and clapped his hands together.

"C'mon, let's eat." he said warmly. "Allie, what kind of sandwich woulds you like? There's ham and tomato, cheese and tomato, peanut butter, or tuna mayo. Take your pick."

Alan thought for a moment. "If I have a cheese and tomato sandwich, can I take the tomato out? Tomato is yucky."

John, who had just entered the room again, chuckled fondly as he came to sit back down in his seat. "It's alright, Sprout, I made a couple of plain cheese sandwiches just for you."

He picked up said sandwiches and placed them on Alan's plate. The smaller blond grinned happily. "Thanks, Johnny! I love cheese, but not when it's with tomato, or when it has that icky blue stuff in it and smells weird like the type of cheese that daddy sometimes eats, or when it's that squishy white stuff that Virge sometimes has in his salad, or when it's one of Scotty's toasties and the cheese tastes all burnt 'cause he cooked it wrong, or when-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Scott laughed, holding up a hand to silence his younger brother's never-ending monologue. "Slow down there, Sprout, or your tongue will run right outta your mouth! Eat your sandwich."

"Okay, Scotty." Alan agreed happily, taking a bite and chewing enthusiastically. "S'weally'ice, 'donny." he mumbled around his mouthful.

"Alan, don't talk with your mouth full, please." Scott reprimanded gently. Alan swallowed forcefully and grinned sheepishly at his eldest brother, before turning to the the blond-haired teenager beside him.

"It's really nice, Johnny." he repeated sincerely. John chuckled and took a sandwich for himself.

"Thanks, Sprout." he said fondly. He poured a glass of lemonade for both Alan and Gordon, before handing the jug to Virgil. "Hey Virge, did you ask dad about us going off together this afternoon?" he inquired.

"Mmm-hmm." Virgil confirmed, holding up a finger until he had finished chewing. "He said we could go." he finished.

"Go where?" asked Gordon curiously, taking a sip of his drink. "Where are you going?"

"Virge and I are going down to the beach to study different species of crab." John explained. "It's for a project he wants to do at school next term."

"Can I come?" asked the copper-haired boy. Virgil looked away, avoiding Gordon's pleading gaze. Gordon, seeing that his older brother was hoping to spend some time alone with John, decided to forgo the opportunity to explore the shoreline himself. "Never mind." he said quickly. "I wanna stay here, anyway."

Virgil glanced back up at him, looking slightly guilty. "You sure?" he asked. "I mean, you can come if you really want to, but-"

"No, it's fine, I'll find something else to do." Gordon assured him. He noticed Scott beaming at him from across the table and new that he had made the right decision.

"You and I can finish making your speed boat if you like." Scott suggested kindly. Gordon immediately brightened and nodded.

"Yeah, that'd be great!" the younger boy grinned. "Then we can try it out in the pool, right?"

"Right." Scott confirmed. Gordon smiled happily and finished his sandwich in relative silence, his mind buzzing over the prospect of spending some quality time with his big brother. Looking towards his younger brother, he noticed that Alan's face was a little downcast. Gordon suddenly realised that, if they all followed through with their plans, Alan would be left with nobody to play with.

"Scotty, can Alan make my boat with us?" he asked softly. "Otherwise he won't have anything to do this afternoon."

Alan's head shot up and he smiled hopefully in Scott's direction. The eldest son grinned.

"That's really nice of you, Gordo." he said affectionately. "And yeah, I think Alan would be a great addition to our team, don't you?"

Gordon nodded and smiled. "Yeah, we'll be called 'Team Shark'!"

Scott chuckled and took a swig of his drink. "Alright then, 'Team Shark', let's finish our lunch so that we can get down to work."

Gordon sighed and tucked in to his second sandwich. He was looking forward to the upcoming afternoon. They were going to have such a good time together building the speed boat and racing it in the pool. The happiness he felt completely erased all the sad thoughts over his father's absence. That didn't matter right now, because he, Scott and Alan were going to have some fun.

Little did he know that, beyond the brightness of the afternoon sun, a danger was fast approaching. A serious danger that would threaten to blot out his innocent happiness forever.

* * *

**_How will the boys react to the news that Jeff is going away for another conference? What happens when one of Gordon's outbursts goes a little too far? And how will Scott deal with it? Find out in the next installment!_**

**_Okay, that chapter is all finished. Poor Jeff, he can't think about the past because of the pain it brings him. Can anything save him from his work obesession? Of course it can, but not for several more chapters! Hee hee!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you thought about this chapter, you know how much I appreciate your helpful feedback! I'll see you again in a couple of days!_**

**_x x x x x_**


	4. Chapter 3: Crime and Punishment

**Yippee, new update! I know it's early, but there was really nothing I else I wanted to do to this chapter, so it's ready to post! Man, it feels like forever since I last updated, even though it was only a couple of days ago! I've been dying to post this one all week, coz it's full of cranky Gordon tantrums! Lol, he's cute when he's mad.**

**Thanks again for the helpful reviews and comments, they're what makes my world go round. Hee hee, just kidding. I'm not that sad ('cough cough'). Honest, I'm not. Really.**

**Anway, hope you enjoy the chapter! x x x x**

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Gordon set down the last place mat upon the table, humming merrily to himself. He was in high spirits following his afternoon of excitement with Scott and Alan. Not only had they finished building the speed-boat, but they had tested it out in the pool for almost an hour before John had called them inside to help with the preperations for dinner.

"Knives and forks please, Gordon." John instructed gently. The copper-haired boy nodded and skipped over to the cutlery drawer in the corner of the room. He would usually have grumbled over being left to set the table on his own, but he honestly didn't mind doing it this evening. Virgil was helping Alan wash up before dinner, otherwise he would have assisted Gordon in his task.

_It's funny how quickly Alan manages to get himself dirty. I'm sure I was never that bad. Well - I did often get muddy when I was playing with Virge in our old house, but that's 'cause we were in the garden. Alan manages to get himself dirty in the house!_

At that moment, Scott strode into the room. His face was lit up in an excited grin, and he immediately went across to his blond-haired sibling, who was carrying objects to and from the kitchen in preparation for dinner.

"Hey John, have you seen the sky outside?" he asked excitedly.

"What about it?" John inquired, setting a jug of milk down on the table. Scott dragged him across the room and towards the bay doors, pointing at the grey clouds overhead.

"See?" he said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like an ecstatic toddler. "Look how dark the sky is getting. I noticed it a little while ago, so I checked out the weather forecast over the pacific. John, it says we're scheduled to experience a full-blown tropical thunderstorm!"

John's face lit up. "Ace! How long until it arrives?"

Scott shrugged. "A couple of hours, I think. The wind's picking up outside, but it's not very strong yet. Hey, after dinner d'you wanna go watch it with me?"

John nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds like a plan. We'll do it in my bedroom, it has a bigger window than yours." He paused suddenly, his expression thoughtful. "Don't you think one of us should stay with Alan? He hasn't seen a proper thunderstorm before. Those little ones we used to get near our old house weren't all that powerful."

Scott shrugged again. "He usually likes thunderstorms. And he can always stay with us until it's time to go to bed if he gets scared."

John nodded. "Good idea. Maybe we could-"

He stopped as Jeff entered the room, a holding a small electric data-pad in one hand. John beamed at him.

"Hi, dad. Dinner will be ready in just a sec." he said placing a bowl of salad beside the jug of milk.

"That's alright, John, I'm not really very hungry at the moment." Jeff replied, pressing a few keys on his touch-pad and sighing in frustration. "Something important has just come up at work. You boys eat without me, I'll make myself something later. Dinner does smell good though, John. Well done."

Gordon, who had just finished setting the table, looked up in surprise and disappointment. "But dad, you didn't have breakfast and lunch with us, either!" he complained. "Aren't you _ever_ gonna stop working?!"

"Gordon." Scott warned him quietly, frowning sternly in his direction. He then turned back towards their father and smiled. "That's fine, dad. We'll leave you some dessert in the fridge."

"Thanks, Scott." Jeff said, his attention still drawn to the device in his hands. "Oh, and another thing." he glanced up from his data-pad. "I'm heading off tomorrow afternoon for a business conference in Boston. I won't get back for a couple of days, as I wish to discuss some important details with a few of my clients. I'm leaving you in charge of the island, alright?"

Scott straightened up, wiping the look of disappointment from his face. "Understood, sir." he replied softly.

Gordon opened and closed his mouth wordlessly for a few moments. _Dad's going away **again**?! But Scotty said that he'd stop working so hard if we moved to the island. We have moved, and he's working even harder than before! That's not fair!_

"Dad, why do you have to go away to _another_ stupid conference?" the copper-haired boy demanded moodily. Scott shot him another warning glare, but he ignored it. Jeff glanced over at him briefly.

"The conferences are important, Gordon." he said dismissively. "They help to provide Tracy Industries with a broader spectrum of business opportunities."

Gordon blinked as he tried to understand what his father had just told him. _What the heck does that mean? I don't care about his stupid work, I want him to stay at home and spend some time with us! Why can't he just be a normal dad?_

Gordon was about to protest, when a cell phone rang out. Jeff dug his hand into his pocket and extracted the device, putting it to his ear.

"Jeff Tracy speaking, how may I help you?" he asked. "Yes, I know...No, not yet. Hang on a second, I'll go and get them."

Covering the phone with his hand, he turned to look at Scott. "Sorry, boys, I've gotta get back to work." he stated calmly. "I'll be down when I'm done, but that might not be for a couple of hours at least. Could you and John make sure all the sun-loungers are packed away before the storm begins? I've heard that the wind can get pretty vicious in this part of the pacific during a thunderstorm. Oh, and I don't want any of you going outside, okay? These storms aren't as tame as the ones back on the mainland."

"I'll make sure everyone's inside, dad." Scott assured him. Jeff nodded his thanks and gave him a brief smile, before turning around and exiting the room, his voice echoing down the corridor as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line.

Scott sighed slightly, before turning around to face Gordon. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "You know that you're not supposed to talk back to dad about his work. I've told you that before."

"But Scott, he's always working!" Gordon complained, stamping his foot in frustration. "And now he has to leave again? It's not fair!"

Virgil who had just entered the room with Alan, stopped in the doorway and frowned. "What's the matter?" he asked softly.

"Dad's going away to another damn conference, that's what's the matter!" Gordon replied angrily. Scott's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Gordon Cooper Tracy, watch your language!" he scolded crossly. Virgil stepped into the room and up to John's side.

"Is dad really going away again, John?" he asked quietly. When John nodded, the younger boy's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "But I thought the whole point of moving here was so that dad could get away from the mainland. Can't he just take a break from work for once?"

Gordon laughed bitterly. "Course he can't, the only thing he cares about is work. He doesn't even care about his family."

"Gordon, sit down and be quiet." John ordered firmly, whilst ushering Alan into his chair and pouring the smaller blond boy a glass of milk. Gordon crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"No." he replied angrily. "If dad's not gonna eat with us, then neither am I!"

Scott glared a him with a stony expression. "Gordon, _sit down_." he commanded, taking his own seat beside John. "We'll discuss this behaviour later."

"Fine, see if I care!" the copper-haired Tracy retorted. "But I'm not gonna sit down! I'm sick of being bossed about by you! You're not my dad! We don't even have a dad any more!"

Virgil who was yet to take his seat, came to stand beside his irate younger brother. "C'mon, Gordo." he soothed. "Don't be like that. Dad's just a bit stressed at the moment. He'll get better, you'll see."

Gordon shook his head fiercely. "No he won't!" he nearly screamed. "It's been over a year since mom died, Virge, and dad still ignores us! He doesn't wanna talk to us or play with us any more, all he wants to do is work in his stupid office and talk to stupid people about stupid business deals! I hate him!"

Gordon knew he'd blown it the minute these words had left his mouth. Scott's face hardened significantly. "Gordon." he said, his voice steely and dangerously low. "Sit down at this table right now, and don't you dare say another word, d'you understand? Not one word."

Virgil reached out a hand to take Gordon's arm, only to have it angrily slapped away. "Leave me alone, Virge. I'm not hungry." the younger boy muttered darkly.

"Just do what Scott says, Gordon." Virgil pleaded. "You're only gonna make things worse for yourself if you keep disobeying him. C'mon, sit down."

Virgil took his arm again and began to pull him against his will towards the table. Consumed by anger and frustration, Gordon turned around and shoved Virgil away with all his might. Virgil, caught unawares, tripped over his own feet and went crashing to the floor with a loud '_thunk'_. Gordon gasped in shock. _Did I just push Virgil over? I didn't mean to do that! I was - I was just so angry and - and - I didn't mean to hurt him!_

Virgil sat up, holding his elbow and grimacing painfully, tears of shock and hurt shining in his eyes. Scott and John both leaped to their feet, rounding the table swiftly and coming to crouch down beside their fallen brother.

"Virgil, buddy, you okay?" John asked worriedly, taking Virgil's arm gently. The younger boy nodded, his brow furrowing as he stared up at Gordon with a hurt and confused expression on his face. Scott stood up very slowly and turned toward the copper-haired Tracy.

"Gordon. Bedroom. Now." he growled, his eyes smouldering fiercely. Gordon, shocked at his own anger as well as that of Scott's, turned around and fled the dining room, running down the corridor as fast as his legs could carry him.

_I didn't mean it, honest I didn't! And now Virgil is gonna hate me! He was the only one who was ever nice to me, and I hurt him! Man, I'm such a horrible person! No wonder dad doesn't wanna spend time with me!_

Slamming his bedroom door closed behind him, he kicked his trashcan over angrily and leaped onto his bed, pounding at the pillow in frustration. Why did he always do the wrong things? He was always getting into trouble. He was always hurting people. And they were always misunderstanding him!

"Nobody loves me." he mumbled miserably, before bursting into tears and burying his head in the soft material of his cuddly dolphin.

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Scott watched his younger brother dart from the room, his feet pattering off down the corridor. Crouching back down beside Virgil, he ruffled the smaller boy's hair gently.

"Virge, you sure you're okay?" he asked softly. Virgil took a deep breath and nodded, standing up and detaching his arm from John's grasp.

"Yeah, just bashed my elbow on the floor when I tripped." he replied shakily, wiping his eyes and looking away. "I'm okay, honest."

"Flex your wrist." John instructed, taking the arm again and feeling it tenderly. "That's right. Now, clench your hand into a fist. Good. Wiggle your fingers for me. That seems okay. Nothing broken or bent, I think, just a nasty bump."

Scott sighed in relief, putting an arm around Virgil's shoulders and guiding him to sit down in his chair. Alan watched them with a confused and worried expression on his innocent face.

"Scotty, why is Gordy mad at you and Virge?" he asked. Scott went over to him and crouched down beside his baby brother's chair.

"Never mind, Al." Scott said, leaning in close and glancing over at Virgil. "Now, I'm gonna go have a word with Gordon. Will you help John to cheer up Virgil?"

Alan nodded and slid off the chair, rounding the table quickly and putting his arms around Virgil's midriff.

"Don't worry, Virge, I'll make it all better." he said confidently. "Jus' like I did with Gordy this morning, 'cause he was sad like you."

Virgil smiled down at him and patted the blond locks affectionately.

"Thanks, Allie." he replied fondly. Scott nodded in satisfaction and stood up, catching John's eye.

"You guys start without me." he instructed swiftly, striding towards the door. "I need to have a little chat with Gordon."

"Scott." John called, as the older boy was about to exit the room. Scott stopped and looked back at the blond teenager.

"What?" he inquired.

"Don't be too hard on him." John pleaded. "I know he was way outta line, but at least he had a right to be angry this time. You know how upset he gets when dad has to go away. Just - just try not to yell at him, okay? That'll only make matters worse."

Scott smiled slightly. _That's John for you, always keeping me in line. But he's right, Gordon is just upset. I don't know what's gotten into him recently. He's never shoved Virgil like that before, not in a long while anyway. I definitely need to have words with him about that._

"It's alright, John, I'll handle it." he assured his younger brother. "I'll see if I can get him to come down for dinner, he has to eat at least a little bit of something. Save him a plate until I get back, okay?"

When John nodded, Scott turned around and strode out of the room. He made his way swiftly to Gordon's bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Gordon, it's me, can I come in?" he asked, deciding to give his brother the chance to accept him if he wanted to.

"Go away!" came the muffled reply. Scott sighed and turned the handle of the door, pushing it open and coming to stand in the room. Gordon lay on his bed, his head buried in 'Flipper' - his soft toy dolphin that he'd had since he was as young as Alan. Gordon raised his tear-stained face and glared at Scott angrily.

"I said _go away_!" he huffed, wiping his eyes and sitting up so that he could face the door. Scott ignored the order and closed the door behind him, stepping over the fallen trashcan and coming to stand beside the bed.

"Gordon, explain." he said calmly. The copper-haired Tracy stuck his tongue out moodily and crossed his arms over his chest. Scott sighed and pulled a chair up to the side of the bed, sitting down and regarding the younger boy impatiently. "Why did you push Virgil onto the floor?" he asked.

Gordon winced at his brother's steely tone. "Wasn't my fault." he muttered. Scott felt the frustration and anger rising within him once again.

"Gordon, _you_ are responsible for your actions, nobody else!" he said sternly. "Nobody forced you to lash out like that! Nobody made you say the things you said about dad! Virgil was only trying to help, you had no right to do that to him!"

Gordon looked up worriedly, his tear-filled eyes wrenching Scott's heart. "Is he hurt bad?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. Scott's anger died down a little.

"He bashed his elbow pretty badly, but you've hurt his feelings more than anything." Scott informed him. "You shouldn't have said the things you did, either. What happened to the promise you made this morning about hating people? You said that you would never do it again, remember? You broke your promise in less than a day, Gordon!"

Gordon threw his dolphin at Scott angrily, and the older boy only just managed to duck in time as it sailed right passed his head.

"Yeah, well what happened to the promise you made to me before we moved?!" the copper-haired Tracy demanded. "You promised me that dad wouldn't work as much, and that things would change. But they haven't! Dad's going away to another stupid conference tomorrow! You did lie to me, just like I said earlier, and I'm never gonna listen to you _ever_ again!"

Scott glared at the younger boy. "That's enough, Gordon. I don't wanna hear it. Now, are you going to come back downstairs to dinner and apologise to Virgil, or will you stay up here and sulk?"

"I'm not hungry." Gordon said defiantly. "And I don't care if I hurt Virgil! I'm not saying sorry!"

Scott's eyes glinted dangerously. "That's it, I've heard enough of this." he stated crossly. "You're grounded for the next three days. No TV, no computer games, no desserts-" he paused, taking a deep breath as he delivered the worst part of the punishment. "And no swimming."

Gordon's eyes widened. "But Scotty, that's not-"

"Not fair?" Scott interrupted. "Oh, I think it is, Gordon. You were way out of line downstairs, and you know it. I'm letting you off lightly considering what you did to Virgil."

Gordon's eyes filled with tears again and he scowled crossly at the floor. "I hate you." he muttered darkly.

"Do you want to be grounded for four days, instead of three?" Scott warned. Gordon's eyes went even wider, and he shook his head desperately. The teenager straightened up in his chair and took a calming breath. "No, I thought not."

After regarding the sulking boy for a moment, Scott stood to his feet and strode towards the door. Opening it, he glanced back towards the younger boy on the bed.

"If you don't want to eat dinner, that that's your own choice." he stated. "You're to stay in here for the rest of the evening, and not to take one step out of this room, d'you understand me? It'll give you the chance to think over what you did. I'll be back before bedtime with some sandwiches, maybe you'll be more willing to apologise then. I'm disappointed in you, Gordon. You let me down today."

"Like I care!" came the angry reply, as Scott pulled the door closed behind him.

Sighing, the eldest Tracy son leaned against the wall of the corridor and rubbed a hand over his face. _Man, I hate punishing the kid like this. But I don't know what else to do. I can't just let him get away with it, he was far too disobedient. And he's getting a little too old for a spanking. I haven't had to ground him like this in months, though. Three days without swimming? Maybe that was a bit harsh. Oh well, I'll come back and check on him before bedtime. Perhaps I could shorten his punishment to two days instead of three if he cooperates and goes to apologise to Virgil. I guess I'll just have to wait and see._

Looking towards the closed bedroom door sadly, he turned away and headed back down the corridor. One thing he hated the most about having to look after all his younger brothers like this was the fact that he had to punish them. John, thank goodness, was one of the best behaved teenagers on the planet. If Scott didn't have John, he would have fallen into despair months ago. Together, they managed to keep the family running. Or they would, rather, if their father wanted to _be _part of their family. Gordon had a point, Jeff hadn't changed since their arrival. He'd returned to his work-obsessed habits, and rarely noticed anything that happened outside of his office.

Swallowing the disappointment and anger that had risen up inside of him, Scott approached the dining room slowly. Pausing just before the doorway, he sighed again.

_I wish you were here with us, mom. Life would be so much easier if dad was happy like he used to be, then he could look after us instead of John and I. And mom, I need you to give me the wisdom to know how to raise them properly. I need you to give us all the strength to keep it together. Please, see if you can do anything - anything at all - to talk some sense into dad. I know he's trying to forget about you to ease the pain, but I need him to help me right now. I can't look after the guys on my own. I need his help. Please, find a way to bring him back to us._

Plastering a calm and laid-back expression onto his face, Scott entered the dining room once more. _But until that time comes, I'll take care of them, mom. I promise you. I'll take care of all of them..._

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**_In the next chapter, what happens when Gordon disobeys his brother's instructions and goes outside? Will this spell disaster for the Tracy family? And will the older boys even notice the absence of their youngest siblings? Find out tomorrow!_**

**Yep, that's right, TOMORROW! There's no college, so I'll have several more hours in which to type. Consider the early update to be a gift of thanks to all you faithful fanfictioners who have reviewed my previous chapters so diligently!**

**Okay, who feels sorry for poor little Gordon? And who also feels sorry for the amount of responsibility that has been thrust onto Scott's shoulders? An who wants to shake Jeff and tell him to snap out of it? Yep, me too. But do not fear, the ending to this tale will be a happy one.**

**REVIEW PLEASE - I'd like to know what you thought of my chapter! Love you all!**

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 4: The Great Escape

**_Yay, it feels as though I'm doing daily updates again! Well - I guess I am for the weekend. Next week it's back to full-time college, so I won't be able to provide you all with updates as frequently as I have been doing this week. However, I will always keep to my promised date for the next postage. (See bottom A/N)_**

**_Thanks again for all your great reviews! Please enjoy the chapter!_**

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Alan waited impatiently for Scott and John to finish their conversation. Scott had always told him that interrupting somebody whilst they were talking was extremely impolite, so he tried to make sure that all the other people had shut up before attempting to speak himself.

At long last, a short silence fell over the table. Licking the last of his chocolate ice-cream off the spoon, he set it back down in the bowl and slid off his chair carefully. Rounding the table, the five-year-old approached his older brother's seat, tugging at the sleeve of Scott's shirt.

"Scotty?" he asked timidly. "Can I go talk to Gordy? He's prob'ly feelin' sad that you grounded him, so wanna go make him feel better."

Scott looked down at him and grinned, rolling his eyes. "Alan, the aim of having chocolate ice-cream for dessert is to _eat_ it, not paint your face with it!"

Alan cocked his head to one side. "What d'you mean, Scotty?"

Scott picked up his napkin and cupped Alan face in his hand, wiping the younger boy's mouth and cheeks. "Honestly, people would think that we made you eat it with your hands tied behind your back!" he chuckled, ruffling Alan's blond hair and showing him the brown stains on the napkin.

"Okay, I'm clean now!" Alan complained, trying to wriggle out of Scott's grasp. "Can I go? Please?"

Scott smiled and nodded, patting Alan on the back affectionately. "Sure thing, Sprout." he said kindly. "But remember, Gordon isn't allowed out of his room, okay? Why don't you two play a game together until bedtime? In fact, I'll let you stay up late this evening because you've been so good today. I'll come and get you at quarter to eight, okay?"

Alan nodded and bounced up and down. "Okay, Gordy and me can play with my cars or something like that."

"Good idea." Scott beamed. "John and I are gonna go outside for a while to bring in the sun-loungers before the storm begins, or else they'll all be blown away by the wind. I'll leave you and Gordon to play together for a while. And, if you get scared during the storm, I'll be in John's bedroom, okay?"

Alan straightened up proudly. "I don't get scared in storms, Scotty. I like storms. I'm brave!"

"Of course you are, Sprout!" Scott chuckled. "But, you know - if you get _bored_ or something and just want to come and sit with us in John's room, that would be okay too, right?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah, that would be okay I guess. So, can I go now?"

Scott gave him a gentle noogie. "Yeah, you can go now. I'll see you at bedtime."

Waving to John and Virgil, Alan ran out of the room quickly and started off down the corridor. His small sneaker-clad feet barely made a sound as they pattered softly up the stairs and towards Gordon's bedroom. Coming to a halt outside the door, Alan reached up a hand and knocked quietly.

"Gordy, it's me." he called in a loud whisper. There was the sound of shuffling from inside the room, then Gordon's muffled and miserable voice could be heard through the door.

"Is Scotty with you?" he asked. Alan looked around, just to make sure that his big brother hadn't been following him.

"No. It's just me, Gordy." Alan informed him. "Can I come in?"

"Okay." came the soft reply. Alan turned the handle and pushed the door open, entering the room quietly and closing the door carefully behind him. He looked over to where his brother sat on the bed, his eyes red-rimmed from crying and his copper hair tousled from burying his head in the pillow he held in his hand. Coming quickly up to the bedside and pulling himself up to sit next to Gordon, Alan looked over at him nervously.

"Do you hate me too, Gordy?" he asked timidly. Gordon's head shot up in surprise.

"No, Allie, of course not!" he cried, wrapping his arms around Alan gently and holding him close. "I - I don't _really_ hate anybody. Not dad, not Scott - nobody. I was just - I was just really angry at dad for needing to go away for another stupid conference, that's all. I didn't mean to hurt Virgil, either."

Alan frowned in confusion. "Then why did you push him?"

Gordon stood up and began to pace the room in frustration. "I didn't do it on purpose, Allie, I was - it was - I just-" he paused, sighing angrily and kicking at the leg of his desk. "I was mad at Scotty for yelling at me. I really didn't mean to push Virge over, I just - I just did, that's all."

"Why was Scotty yelling at you?" Alan inquired softly, fiddling with the corner of Gordon's duvet.

"Because I said some rude stuff about dad." Gordon mumbled, a flash of anger burning in his eyes. "But I was right, Allie! Scott never listens to me, even though I'm right about what I said!"

Alan stood up off the bed and came to stand beside his older brother. "Don't be mad, Gordy." he soothed. "Scotty isn't angry with you anymore. He said I could come up here and play with you to make you feel better, and that he'd let me stay up till quarter to eight before he came to check on us and put me to bed, and he wasn't mad at you or anything! He said that we could play with my cars or something, but we have to do it in here 'cause he said that you're not allowed to leave your room till he says, and-"

Gordon banged his fist on the desk, his face twisted in anger. "See? He's bossing me around again! He's always telling me to do stuff! Well, I don't care what he says! I'm going outside!"

Alan grabbed hold of his arm desperately. "But Gordy, Scotty said that the storm was coming soon, and he and Johnny had to put the sun-loungers inside so that they wouldn't get blowed away by the wind."

Gordon sighed and patted Alan on the hand. "It's alright, Allie, I'm not going away for long. I'm just gonna take the main path down to the beach. It shouldn't take more than half an hour, and Scott said before dinner that the storm wouldn't get here for a couple of hours yet. I'll have plenty of time to get back before the storm starts."

Alan glanced towards the door nervously. "But Gordy, you're not allowed to go out! Daddy said that we had to stay inside the house tonight, and Scotty said that you had to stay in your room 'cause you were naughty. You're gonna get into lots more trouble if you don't do what daddy and Scotty says to do!"

Gordon frowned crossly. "I don't care! I've been grounded for three days, Allie, I'm already in lots of trouble! And besides, Scott isn't gonna find out unless you sneak on me."

Alan looked shocked. "I wouldn't do that, Gordy!" he exclaimed faithfully. "I only sneak if you've been mean to me or nicked my toys and stuff. But you still shouldn't go outside. What if Scotty or Johnny spots you? Then Scotty will get real mad at you, and you'll be grounded for even longer than three days!"

Gordon hesitated, his hand on the door-knob. Contemplation was written solidly across his features, but their was also a stubborn determination in his eyes. Shaking his head, he cautiously opened the door.

"I'll be back here before Scotty comes to find us, Al." he assured the younger boy, poking his head out of the door and looking left and right. "Don't worry. I just need to go for a walk and think about some stuff. I'll see you later."

With that, he stepped out into the corridor and began to walk away. Alan leaned out of the doorway. "Gordy!" he whispered loudly. "Gordy, come back! You're gonna get in trouble! Gordy!"

But his older brother wasn't listening to him. He continued to walk away down the corridor and round the corner, disappearing from sight. With a frustrated sigh, Alan pulled Gordon's door closed behind him and hurried off after his brother. Sometimes, Gordon could be _so_ stupid!

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Gordon knew exactly what he was going to do. He would sneak out of the house and down the path towards the beach, where he could watch the waves splashing onto the shore for a little while. That would help to calm him down.

_I'll be back in my room a long time before the storm gets here. And Scotty won't come to find me until it's time for Alan to go to bed, so he shouldn't notice that I'm gone as long as I'm really careful not to make too much noise sneaking out of here._

As he rounded the corner of the corridor, he slowly tiptoed down the stairs and crept passed Virgil's bedroom. Suddenly, he heard a noise coming from inside the room. A noise that sounded distinctly like footsteps. Panicking, he turned around to dart back up the stairs, only to stop when he noticed that the door of the storage closet was open slightly. _Strange. That wasn't open the last time I looked._

Realising that this was his safest option, he quickly ran to the closet and leaped inside, pulling the door towards him so that it allowed him to see through a narrow slit. Holding his breath, he watched as Virgil's door opened and the brown-haired boy emerged. Virgil was humming a tune to himself as he chewed the end of his paintbrush, looking around the corridor with a slight frown on his face. He was clearly searching for something. A smile suddenly blossomed on his face, and he moved out of sight down the corridor. When he stepped back into Gordon's field of vision, he held a vase of wild flowers in his hands - the one that had been on the table at the end on the corridor. Seemingly satisfied, Virgil went back into his room and closed the door behind him.

Gordon released his breath and leaned his head against the wall of the closet. _That was close. Too close. I need to be more careful. What if Virge had wanted to paint something from in here? What if he'd found me? Oh well, he didn't. That's all that really matters. Good thing this closet door was open, or I wouldn't have spotted it in time to hide._

"Gordy?"

Gordon cried out in surprise at the whispered voice, falling over backwards and landing on top of a pile of suitcases. Now that Gordon was no longer holding the door closed, it swung open a little more and the light from the corridor flooded into the closet-room.

"Allie!" Gordon whispered angrily, standing to his feet and brushing himself off. "Don't do that! You nearly gave me a heat-attack!"

The blond boy looked a little ashamed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Gordy." he murmured, lowering his head. Gordon felt sorry for his younger brother.

"It's alright, Al, I know you didn't do it on purpose." he smiled, although his heart was still pounding in his chest from the fright he had just received. "Anyway, what are you doing in here?"

"I was followin' you, Gordy." Alan explained confidently. "I wanted to make sure that you didn't get into trouble with Scotty or daddy, so I was gonna try and tell you to come back to your room and play with me. But I don't want to play anymore 'cause I like hiding in closets. It's lots more fun to sneak outta the house with you than to play cars. Can I come with you? Please?"

Gordon shook his head. "No, Allie, I don't want you to get in trouble if I get caught." he whispered. "Scott'll be mad at you if he knows that you've helped me to sneak out."

"But Gordy!" Alan whined loudly. "Why can't I go with you? Please? Please can I-"

"Shhh!" Gordon hissed, covering Alan's mouth with his hand in an attempt to silence his baby brother. "Not so loud! Alright, fine, you can go for a little walk with me if you want to. But it will only be a _little_ walk, Allie. And you have to do as I say, alright? And stay really, really quiet."

Alan nodded obediently and latched onto Gordon's hand. "'kay, Gordy. I'll be good." he whispered.

Gordon smiled down at him and squeezed his hand. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do..."

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Scott and John leaned against the door of the shed with all their weight, digging their heels into the ground as they pushed backwards against the stubborn metal frame. Fumbling behind him, Scott grabbed the padlock and inserted it in the hook, locking the door as quickly as he could.

"Done!" he exclaimed breathlessly, standing up and clapping John on the shoulder. "Good work, bro."

"Yeah," John panted. "You too."

A sudden gust of wind caused both teenagers to shiver involuntarily. "The storms getting closer." John remarked. "It's gonna be here before long."

"C'mon, let's get inside so that we can get everything ready before it starts." Scott suggested, brushing the dirt of his shorts.

"You know," John smiled, rubbing his aching back. "The next person who opens that door is gonna get flattened when everything falls on top of them."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, maybe I should put a sign on it to remind myself for when we take the sun-loungers back out again tomorrow. Either that, or I'll just let you be the person to open it up again next time."

"Nah." John replied. "Get Virgil to do it."

Scott slapped him upside the head gently. "Don't be cruel, Blondie." he scolded, grinning when his brother frowned moodily.

"Hey, how come I get nicknamed after my hair colour and Alan doesn't?" he complained. "He's blond too, you know! What if I called you 'Brownie', hmm? How would you like that?"

Scott grabbed him in a headlock and proceeded to give him a massive noogie. "I wouldn't like it at all, Johnny-boy!" he chuckled, as John laughed and struggled against his grip. "So I suggest that you refrain from using it when in my presence."

John, who had managed to wriggle out of his brother's grasp, snorted in amusement. "What do you mean 'in my presence'? You're talking like your an emperor or something!"

Scott shoved him away gently. "But of course!" he cried, putting on a proud and mightily tone of voice. "Don't you recognise this handsome visage? It is I, Emperor Scott of Tracy Island!"

John laughed and shoved him back. "In your dreams, Scooter ol' buddy! And what handsome visage am I supposed to be looking at, pray tell? I think I got all of your good looks. You look like a baboon."

John ran off quickly before Scott could jump on him. "Why you little..." Scott cried, sprinting after his fleeing brother. "You are such a kid, John! You haven't used that insult since you were ten!"

"It still works though, doesn't it?" John yelled over his shoulder, rounding the side of the pool and heading up the steps. Scott managed to catch up with him before he reached the top, and began to drag him back down.

"Oh, you're in trouble now!" Scott growled, grinning manically as he frog-marched his younger brother towards the pool.

"NO!" John protested, laughing as he struggled against Scott's strong arms. "Scott, please? You've already done that once today! Please, Scott, I'm sorry! NO!"

Scott laughed loudly, holding John over the very edge of the pool. "Alright, I'll forgive you on one condition." he said.

"Okay, anything!" John promised, still laughing uncontrollably as Scott dipped him closer to the water.

"Alright, you make the popcorn and get the drinks for watching the storm." Scott stated triumphantly. "I'll get the duvets and pillows."

"That's fine, I agree!" John said hurriedly as his upper body inched closer to the pool. Scott yanked him back up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Okay then, you're forgiven." he said calmly. John shook his head and brushed himself off, heading back up towards the villa. Just before the doors, he paused and turned back around to grin at his brother.

"You know I _was_ gonna do that, anyway." he called, as Scott began to ascend the steps. "You would've set the popcorn-maker on fire."

With an outraged cry, Scott charged up the rest of the steps in hot pursuit of his brother. He was so intent upon catching up with John as he raced down the corridor, he didn't even notice the two figures who crept out of the dining room and slipped through the doors. As he rounded the corner of the corridor, their feet pattered quickly down the steps by the pool, and their small forms disappeared into the tall bushes that surrounded the path to the beach.

Neither young boy paid any heed to the rapidly darkening sky overhead, and the eldest Tracy son had no idea that his two youngest brothers were running straight into danger.

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**_What happens when the storm finally arrives on the island, and Alan and Gordon are caught unawares? Will they make it back to the villa? And will Scott realise they are missing? What will our two youngest boys do when they are under the ferocious onslaught of a tropical thunderstorm? Find out tomorrow!_**

**Yes, another chapter for you tomorrow evening, aren't you lucky?! I do it because I love you. Lol.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW so that I know what you think of the story so far. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you tomorrow!**

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**


	6. Chapter 5: Thunder and Lightning

**_Good evening, my friends! It's that time of day again! It's. . . . . . a new update! Hurray!_**

**_Thanks for all the great reviews you made about my last chapter, they were really encouraging. I hope you enjoy the chapter and, as always, don't kill me for torturing our Tracy babies!_**

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"Shh, they're coming!"

Gordon crouched down behind the table, pulling Alan alongside him and covering the younger boy's mouth with his hand. Glancing between the tangle of chair legs towards the door, Gordon watched as John sprinted down the corridor, laughing loudly. Directly behind him was Scott, who was yelling empty threats at his blond brother as his feet thundered across the floor. The copper-haired boy waited until Scott had passed by the door, before standing to his feet hurriedly and dragging Alan out of the dining room as fast as he could.

"C'mon, Allie, run!" he urged in a loud whisper, descending the steps and sprinting in the direction of the path that led to the beach. Alan followed close behind him, his small legs pumping as he tried to keep up with his older brother. At last, when they had run a short distance down the path and reached the cover of the trees, they stopped.

"That was fun, Gordy!" Alan smiled. "Can we do it again?"

Gordon grinned and shook his head, panting as he bent over and clutched his knees. "Not now, Allie." he replied, straightening up and taking the smaller boy's hand. "We might get caught if we go back inside. C'mon, let's go."

They headed off quickly down the path, smiling triumphantly at their victory over John and Scott. They hadn't been caught, they hadn't even been seen. Needless to say, they were rather pleased with themselves. It wasn't often that they knowingly outsmarted their eldest siblings, and the sense of achievement it gave them made both boys grin proudly.

They strolled happily through the trees for nearly ten minutes, chatting casually together about nothing in particular. Alan suddenly came to a halt, staring directly ahead of them, then he began to bounce up and down in excitement.

"Gordy, look!" he cried, pointing through a clump of trees ahead. "I can see the beach!"

Gordon smiled and released Alan's hand, jogging down the last few metres of the dirt path and onto the golden sands. A sudden gust if wind caused him to stagger slightly to the left, grabbing onto a rock to support himself. He stood up straight again, glancing around at the darkening sky. _Wow, it's getting dark fast. We can't stay here too long. I want to get back before the storm hits, or else me and Alan will get wet._

"Gordy, why is it so windy?" Alan asked, yelling to be heard over the crashing of the waves.

"It always gets a bit windy before a storm, Alan." Gordon replied loudly. "Don't worry, there's still loads of time before the storm gets here."

"But why is it _this _windy?" Alan inquired, clinging onto the rock as another blast of wind threatened to knock him off balance. "Gordy, I'm gonna get blowed away!"

Gordon did not answer, as his attention was focused on the roaring sea in front of him. _I've never seen the ocean this lively before. Wow, it's incredible! Look at the size of those waves way out there! This is so cool! I'd forgotten that the storm would make the sea this choppy. I'd better stay back here, or I might get sprayed by one of those waves. This is so cool!_

He felt a small tug on his arm, and looked down to see Alan gazing up at him with a frown. "Gordy, it's gettin' dark already, look! And it's gettin' really windy, too. Do you think we should go back home?"

Gordon shook his head. "Nah, we only just got here. We can stay another five minutes or so." he replied, sitting down on the rock and pulling Alan to his side. "Look at those waves, Allie! Did you see the size of that one?"

Alan's eyes went as wide as saucers as he gazed out to sea in awe. "Wow! Why are they so big, Gordy?"

"The storm will make the sea get choppy, Al." Gordon explained knowingly. "And the more choppy it is further out to sea, the bigger the waves are when they get to the beach."

"But you said that the storm isn't gonna start yet." Alan stated, a look of confusion passing over his face. "Why is the sea choppy if the storm hasn't started?"

Gordon opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when another strong gust of wind caused him to shiver involuntarily. He rubbed his hands over his bare arms, noticing that Alan was doing the same thing. _Hmm, maybe we should go back to the house. This wind is pretty cold. And Alan is right, the sky is getting kinda dark._

Something wet and cold landed on his arm, and he looked down to see what it was. A single raindrop glistened on his tanned skin. _Uh-oh. It's starting to rain. We'd better get back now, or else we'll be soaked. And Scott won't be happy if he finds us both with wet clothes. We're gonna have to run back to the house to avoid the heavy rain._

Standing up, Gordon extended a hand towards his baby brother. "C'mon, Al, let's head off home." he suggested. Alan looked at the hand for a moment, grinned, and slapped it quickly.

"Tag, you're it!" he cried, turning around on the spot and darting off up the beach. Gordon stood motionless for a few seconds, blinking in surprise. Then he snapped out of his daze and turned around.

"Alan, come on! Stop being silly!" he shouted, although a smile was creeping onto his face. "I'm not gonna chase you!"

"That's 'cause your too slow!" came the giggly reply. Gordon shook his head and sighed. When his reputation was challenged, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

"I'm gonna get you for that, Al!" he cried, sprinting after the escaping figure as fast as he could. The wind blasted him in the face, and he blinked again as his eyes watered, but he did not stop running.

"Can't catch me!" the younger boy yelled over his shoulder, giggling as he neared the end of the beach. Gordon grinned.

"You're trapped now, squirt!" he cried triumphantly. There was nowhere his younger brother could run. With dense jungle on one side, and choppy seas on the other, Alan would have no option but to double back on himself and head back down the beach towards Gordon.

"Nuh-uh, slow poke!"Alan called, quickening his pace for the last few metres. However, he did not stop when he reached the end of the stretch of sand. To Gordon's horror, he kept on running, his blond head disappearing amongst the dark canopy of trees and bushes.

"Allie, stop!" the copper-haired Tracy yelled, his legs burning as he ran as fast as he could towards the spot where his brother had last been seen. "You can't go into the jungle, it's too dangerous! Alan, come back!"

Gordon stopped just before he reached the trees, panting and peering desperately into the shady jungle before him. "Alan, come back out, we have to go home!" he yelled.

"Come and find me, Gordy!" Alan laughed cheekily, his blond head bobbing out from behind a bush momentarily. Then it disappeared again as he jogged off into a thick clump of trees.

"Alan, don't!" Gordon called. "Please? Come back!"

When there was no reply, Gordon sprinted off into the jungle, following the bobbing blond head as it slipped quickly through the trees in front of him.

"Alan, stop!" he yelled again. "The game's over, okay? We can't play in here, you know that!"

He came to a halt in a small clearing, gasping for breath. He could sense that his younger brother was hiding somewhere near. A sudden flash of lightening caused him to look up through the trees in surprise. Another few drops of rain made their way through the leaves and hit him in the face. He wiped them off hurriedly, his eyes darting around for any sign of his brother._ Oh man, I should have listened to Scott. I should never have come out here in the first place. It was a stupid idea! Now I've lost Alan!_

"Alan, come here _right now_!" he shouted, his heart thudding in his chest. A giggle to his left and a rustle of leaves told him that his younger brother did not know of the danger they were in. Alan was clearly under the impression that everything was hunky-dory.

"Alan Tracy, get out here!" the ten-year-old demanded forcefully, adopting his eldest brother's stern frown. _Why does he always do this? He knows he's not allowed in the jungle!_

Suddenly, a huge flash of white lightning sparked across the stormy sky, making Gordon freeze to the spot. _Uh-oh. That's not good. We'd better get back home, now!_

"Alan, stop being silly!" Gordon said fiercely. "We need to go!"

"But you said that the storm wouldn't get here till-" Alan began, but he was cut off by almighty crash of thunder, the deafening noise so loud that Gordon actually covered his ears with his hands in an attempt to block out the sound. Alan let out a startled shriek and looked up towards the sky with fearful eyes.

"Alan, c'mon!" Gordon persisted, extending a hand towards the small boy who now cowered beneath the bush. "The storms already here, see? We've gotta get back to the house!"

A sudden flash of lightning ripped through the dark clouds, accompanied by another monsterous thunderclap. Jumping out from behind the bush, Alan latched onto Gordon's arm in fright.

"Gordy, I don't like it." he stated, his voice wavering slightly. "I wanna go home now."

Gordon sighed in relief and turned around. His heart skipped a beat. _Which way **is** home? I haven't been in this part of the jungle before. Uh-oh. How am I gonna get out of here? I'm lost! No, I'm not. I'm not lost. I just have to stay calm. Okay - um - I need to go back the way I came, which is - um - that way?_

"C'mon, Allie, let's go." he urged calmly, taking his brother's hand and pulling him in back into the trees. Another flash, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder, caused Alan to grip onto his arm once again.

"Gordy, I'm gettin' wet!" Alan complained, as the heavens opened and huge droplets of rain began to fall from the sky..

"Yeah, Al, I know." Gordon replied, as a steady drumbeat began to accumulate from the thousands of splashes echoing around them. "We're gonna get a little bit wet, I'm sorry."

"Aaaw!" Alan moaned. "Scotty's gonna make me take a bath! I don't wanna get wet, Gordy!"

Gordon swallowed and came to a halt once again, looking around for a familiar tree or bush to give him some indication that he was heading in the right direction. Biting his bottom lip, he continued in the direction in which he had been headed. Right now, getting wet was the least of their worries.

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"Whoa, did you see that?!" John cried, pointing at the massive silver zig-zag that struck out across the dark horizon. "I've never seen lightning like this before! See how it meets the ocean like that? That's gotta be more than- Whoa!"

Another huge dagger plunged from the sky and stabbed at the ocean beneath. John blinked as flashing dots erupted in his eyes. "Wow, that was the biggest so far!" he exclaimed.

Scott took a sip of his soda and inched closer on his front to John's window, a pillow supporting his upper body. An excited grin lit his face as another crash of thunder boomed overhead.

"Man, this is so cool!" he murmured. "It's only been raining for what - five minutes? And already we've seen more lightning than we ever did back in the old house. This storm is a hundred times more violent than that one we saw two summers ago. Just before we came on holiday to the island, there was that huge storm over the mainland that practically blew the garden shed down, do you remember?"

John nodded, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl and eating it absent-mindedly, his eyes still glued to the dark sky outside the window. Another crash of thunder made both boys jump, then chuckle together.

"How long is the storm supposed to last?" John asked. Scott shrugged and took another swig of his drink.

"About three or four hours, I think." he replied. "These things can blow over pretty quickly once they get started. But they're really violent when they're in full swing. Boy am I glad to be inside!"

John grinned and nodded, inching closer to Scott's side and reaching for the plate of cookies. Taking one from the plate and holding it in his mouth, he shuffled back to his original position, grinning around his cookie as another flash of lightning streaked across the sky. The rain feel down in torrents from the lack clouds, lashing against the window as the wind howled loudly. Both teenagers felt very comfortable and safe in their little den.

"What's Virgil doing?" Scott asked, popping a few potato chips into his mouth and smiling as a huge crash of thunder exploded above them.

"Painting." John answered simply. "I asked him if he wanted to join us, but he was too absorbed in his canvas to even notice me there. I left him a plate of cookies in case he got hungry."

Scott chuckled in amusement. "That kid's gonna go far, you know."

John nodded and smiled. "Yup, he's certainly got talent. I just wish that he'd play the baby grand piano like he used to do before mom died."

"You know why he doesn't want to play it, John." Scott sighed sadly. "He thinks that it would upset dad. And he's probably right, too. Besides, he still plays on his keyboard in his bedroom, that's good enough for him. As long as he's happy, I'm happy"

John nudged him. "You're too good to us, Scooter." he smiled. Scott shook his head.

"I couldn't do it without you, bro." he said softly. "You're what keeps me sane in this mad-house."

John regarded his brother's sincere expression in silence for a moment, before leaning forward and shoving a cookie into his brother's mouth. Scott made a noise of protest as crumbs spilled down onto his pillow, taking a bite from the cookie and setting the rest down on the floor.

"Wha'as'zat for?" he asked around his mouthful. John grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"As Gordon rightly said, 'I do it because I love you, Scotty'." he replied cheekily. Suddenly, Scott glanced down at his watch and his eyes widened. Placing his can of soda on the floor, he brushed the crumbs off his pillow and sat up hurriedly.

"What's the matter?" John asked, a small frown playing across his face.

"I hadn't noticed what time it was." Scott muttered, standing to his feet and detaching himself from the duvet he had been laying on top of. "I was supposed to put Alan to bed five minutes ago. And I need to go and see if Gordon's calmed down enough to eat something and apologise to Virgil."

He began to make his way towards the door, stumbling over a cushion in the dark and whacking his shin on the side of the bed. "Ow! John, where's your door?" he hissed, grasping his lower leg and hopping around as he picked up the item from the floor.

"Where it's always been, bro. In the wall over there." John supplied helpfully, grinning as Scott threw the cushion towards him and completely missed. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room, and Scott leaped towards the door, wrenching it open and allowing the light from the hallway to flood into the bedroom.

"You staying in here?" Scott asked, looking back over his shoulder. John smiled and rolled over, getting to his feet.

"And miss a chance to hear one of your 'I-forgive-you-but-don't-do-it-again' speeches?" he asked in a shocked voice, following Scott out of the room and into the corridor. "As if! You're getting pretty good at them, you know."

Scott shoved him playfully as they descended the staircase and strode down another corridor. "Well, I've had loads of practice over the last thirteen months, so it's no surprise really." he chuckled.

"True." John agreed. "Although you weren't so good at it when you started doing them a little while after mom died. As I recall, you ended up yelling at Virge when you first tried to make that speech."

Scott laughed and shook his head. "Yeah well, he _did_ throw a pot of paint-water at me!" he argued. "I kinda forgot about the speech after that."

They walked up another set of stairs, smiling to themselves at the memory. As they approached Gordon's bedroom, which was the door nearest to them, they became aware of a strange noise. No - it wasn't a _noise_ that was strange, it was the distinct _lack _of noise. Usually when Alan and Gordon played together, they sounded like a herd of elephants rampaging through a china store.

"Do you think they fell asleep?" John asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Scott grinned and nodded.

"All that yelling earlier probably knocked Gordon out, and it's way past Alan's bedtime." he remarked. "They've probably fallen asleep on top of each other, like they used to do when Alan was still a toddler."

Turning the handle, he pushed the door open slowly. The room was dark, as the light had not been switched on, but the light from the corridor lit up the bedroom enough for Scott to see that something was not quite right. No, something was _missing_. Two things in fact.

"Gordon? Alan?" Scott called softly, waving his hand in front of the sensor panel and turning on the lights.

The room brightened considerably, revealing Gordon's bedroom to the two teenagers. A few books lay open on the floor, accompanied by plastic models of boats and submarines. Flipper the dolphin lay where Gordon had thrown him earlier, surrounded by a couple of disregarded items of clothing. The bed, its covers slightly crumpled, was home to a large plastic shark, and a small volume of 'The Pocket Encyclopedia of Aquatic Mammels' lay on the pillow. Everything was as it should be, save for one very important fact;

Gordon and Alan were not there.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, how does Scott react to the news that Gordon has left his bedroom? And when a search of the house does not uncover the two young miscreants, what will he do? And how are Gordon and Alan faring as they battle through the jungle in an attempt to find their way back to the house? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Man, I really do spoil you, don't I? But I've got no college prep this evening, so I'll have time to start the next chapter for tomorrow._**

**_I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW with all your comments. Thanks, and love you lots!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxo_**


	7. Chapter 6: The Search Begins

**_It's me again! Well, at least I_ _think it is. Hang on, I'll just check. . . . .yup! It's me!_**

**_Ahem, moving on swiftly. Thank you for all your positive and encouraging reviews, they were enough to keep me going through the day! Now I've finished my chores and I'm ready to type!_**

**_Enjoy, my friends!_**

* * *

Gordon and Alan stumbled through the undergrowth on tired and aching legs, holding hands tightly. Huge cold droplets pelted the two boys mercilessly as the thunder boomed overhead, bright flashes of silver lightning illuminating their sopping-wet figures as they fought their way through the dense jungle.

"Allie, do you wanna stop for a bit?" Gordon asked, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the wind and rain. Alan nodded, feeling as though his arms and legs might just drop off if he didn't sit down. Gordon led them over to a large plant, crouching down under the massive waxy leaves and wiping the water from his face as best he could. The umbrella-like leaves supplied the boys with a temporary shelter from the storm's onslaught.

"Gordy, are we lost?" Alan asked, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

Gordon sat down on the ground and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, feeling tears spring into his own eyes. _I don't know what to do. I don't know which way to go to get back home. Oh, I should never have come out here! Now we're gonna be lost forever, and I'll never get to tell dad that I don't really hate him. I love him. And I love Scotty and John and Virge, too. I bet they don't even know that we're not in the house at the moment. Scotty will be mad at me when he finds out that I've gone outside when he told me not to. And he'll be really cross because I took Alan with me._

Gordon tried his best to hide his true emotions, knowing that they would only make his younger brother even more frightened. Rubbing the five-year-old's back in the same soothing manner that Scott always used, he tried to offer Alan as much comfort as possible.

"It's okay, Allie, we're gonna get back home soon." he said confidently, although he didn't really believe it himself. "If we keep walking this way, we'll get out of the jungle at some point. Then we can just walk around the edge of the jungle until we get to a beach. There's paths going from every beach back to the house, so as long as we stick to the paths after that, we'll get home easily, 'kay."

Alan sniffed loudly and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "But Gordy, we've been walking for ages and ages!" he stated, hiccoughing slightly. "I - I'm tired and I'm wet, and I don't wanna be in the jungle any more!"

Gordon tried his best to hold back his own tears. "I know you're scared, Allie. But it's gonna be alright. And you won't even get into trouble with Scotty, either. I'll tell him it was me."

Alan raised tear-filled eyes to look up at his older brother in shock. "But Gordy, I said I wanted to come with you." he insisted. "I was naughty, too. And I don't care if Scotty angry at me, I just wanna go home."

Gordon nodded and stood to his feet slowly, reaching down a hand to pull Alan up alongside him. "C'mon, then. We should head off again. We'll be home real soon, Allie, I promise."

Holding onto his brother's hand tightly, Gordon took a deep breath and began trekking through the tall vegetation once more, hoping against all hope that his plan would work and they would soon reach the border of the jungle.

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Scott stood gaping in stunned silence at the empty bedroom for several seconds, before an angry fire began to smoulder in his eyes.

"I don't believe it! That little terror has gone and disobeyed me _again_!" he exclaimed, turning around on the spot and striding out of the door. He stopped outside the door to Alan's bedroom and knocked. "Al? Allie, can I come in?"

When there was no reply, Scott's frown deepened and he pushed his baby brother's door open. When he was met with another empty room, he sighed in frustration. _I should have known that they'd club together on this one. Those two always look out for each other. I bet they worked out some ingenious way to avoid me, and are hidden in one of the closet-rooms downstairs. Well, if Gordon wants to extend his punishment to four days, so be it._

John, who had come up behind Scott, raised an eyebrow at the empty bedroom. "The Terrible Two are at large once again, huh?" he commented softly.

"It would appear so." Scott replied gravely. He sighed and shook his head, starting off towards his own bedroom. "I'll start searching for them. You go back to your room and carry on watching the storm."

John caught up with him. "Nah, it wouldn't be any fun on my own. Besides, somebody's gotta make sure you don't lose your temper when you find them."

Scott smiled in appreciation. "Thanks, John. Alright, here's the plan; I'll search the left wing, you search the right wing, then we'll both meet up in the living room and search middle sections, okay?"

John nodded and gave a mock solute. "Good luck, captain."

Fifteen minutes later, Scott hadn't found even a trace of the two young miscreants. He had searched every nook and cranny in the left wing of the villa, and had assisted John in scouring the main areas in the middle. But still there was no sign of them. He was becoming increasingly worried.

"John, did you check in Virgil's bedroom?" Scott called over his shoulder as he opened the pantry door again and peered between the rows of shelves. John, who had been looking under the kitchen work table for the third time, frowned slightly.

"Um - no, actually." he admitted. "I heard him playing on his keyboard, so I didn't want to disturb him."

Scott rolled his eyes and closed the pantry door. "So we've spent the last five minutes needlessly searching the same spots over and over, and you haven't even bothered to check in Virgil's bedroom yet?"

"But what would they be doing in Virgil's bedroom?" John argued, jogging to keep up with the older teenager as he strode determinedly down the corridor. Scott sighed impatiently.

"Think, John. Why was Gordon grounded in the first place?" he asked in a voice of a long-suffering older brother. Realisation dawned in the blond boy's eyes, and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." he mumbled. Scott smiled to himself.

"You know, little brother, for a genius you sure can be stupid sometimes." he said fondly. John glared at him as they arrived at Virgil's door, but remained silent. Scott raised his hand and knocked loudly.

"Virge, it's me, can I come in?" he called.

"Sure thing, Scott." came the reply. Scott pushed the door open and stepped inside, smiling at his younger brother. Then his face fell as he realised that Virgil was alone.

The younger Tracy frowned at Scott's expression. "Scott, what's the matter? You look like somebody just blew up Tracy One."

Scott managed a weak smile, but his chest was beginning to tighten in worry. "Virgil, you haven't seen Gordon or Alan since dinner, have you?" he asked. Virgil's frown deepened, and he shook his head.

"No, I haven't seen either of them." he replied. "I thought you banished Gordon to his bedroom for the rest of the evening?"

"I did." Scott replied, a growing sensation of dread beginning to build up inside of him. Virgil's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Let me guess, he went off to hide somewhere, right?" he smiled slightly. "Have you checked the pantry?"

Scott nodded. "And all of the closets and cupboards, and every single room in the house! I can't find them!"

Virgil dropped his book onto the bed and stood up. "Why don't I help you? Maybe you guys just weren't looking in the right places. There are a lot of good hiding spots that only Gordon, Alan and myself know about."

Scott crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Alright, fine. Everybody split up, and we'll each search every room in the villa by ourselves, okay? We'll meet in the living room in ten minutes."

Scott inhaled slowly as he tried to calm himself down. _I am going to kill that boy when I get my hands on him._ Shaking the angry thoughts out of his head, he exited the room and continued to search for his youngest siblings. Again, Scott was unsuccessful in uncovering the two boys. His brothers seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Scott felt his heartbeat quicken as each and every room produced the same disappointing results.

"Gordon?!" he yelled loudly as he spun in a slow circle in the living room. "Alan?! C'mon, guys, knock it off! Come out now, and I might _not_ ground you for all of eternity!"

But his voice only echoed around the stillness of the house, the silence being punctuated by almighty claps of thunder from the violent storm outside. The endless drumming of the rain had formed a constant taboo around him, heightening the tension and causing his chest to tighten in concern.

"Scott, any luck?" John asked, running into the room. Scott shook his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and running a hand through his hair.

"John, they're not in the house, I think we've determined that." Scott muttered painfully. "Which means that-"

"They must be outside." John finished in a whisper. "Oh Scott, they - they wouldn't! They can't be! We must have forgotten to look somewhere, that's all. Let's keep looking, and maybe they'll get bored and come to us, yeah?"

Scott shook his head, glancing up as Virgil walked through the door. From the worried expression on his younger brother's face, his search had also proved to be unsuccessful.

"They must have gone out before the storm arrived." Scott stated, more to himself than to the other two, beginning to pace up and down as his panic increased. "Darn it, why couldn't he just do what he was told for once?!"

Virgil, who had gone rather pale, sat down heavily on one of the couches. "They - they went outside?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly as he shot a worried glance towards the large window. Rain lashed against the glass as the wind howled, reminding the brothers of how seriously the storm was raging outside of the villa.

Scott felt an urgency rise within him. _I've gotta go out there and look for them! Darn it, they're only little! They're probably terrified!_

"The office!" John exclaimed suddenly. Scott frowned at him questioningly, and John grabbed him by the arms. "Dad's office!" he elaborated, desperation shining in his blue eyes. "It's the only place we haven't checked! Maybe - I don't know - maybe Gordon and Alan went to talk to dad or something."

Scott found this highly unlikely. He had made sure that their father's office was as off-limits as the jungle, unless you were delivering a message or reporting an emergencey. He doubted that Gordon, after declaring his hatred of their father, would suddenly decide to go off _with Alan _to have a cosy little chat. However, at the moment he was willing to accept any alternative to the suggestion that his youngest brothers were outside in the storm.

"Alright." he said, taking John by the shoulders and looking into his panic-stricken face. "I'll go check in dad's office. You two have one last search around the downstairs areas, okay? For me? If you find them, yell as loud as you can and I might be able to hear you from the office."

As Virgil and John headed in one direction down the corridor, Scott sprinted the other way towards the stairs that lead to the floor where is father's office and bedroom were located. Running up to the door as fast as he could, he knocked loudly.

"Come in?" Jeff called, and Scott bust into the room. Jeff sat at his massive desk, typing away on his laptop with an expression of deep concentration on his face. "Must you boys yell at each other like that?" he asked softly, his fingers dancing over the keys rapidly.

"We weren't yelling at each other, dad." Scott replied absent-mindedly, walking around the room and peering desperately behind chairs and tables. He felt his father's eyes upon him, and turned to see Jeff staring at him with a frown of confusion.

"Are you looking for something, Scott?" he asked. Scott tried to calm his rapid breathing, running a hand through his hair. _They're not in here. They're not in the house. Which means - which means they're outside. No, this can't be right! They must have been out there for over an hour by now! Oh please God, this can't be happening to us!_

"Scott?" his father pressed, his eyebrows knotting together. "Is there a problem?"

Scott did not respond, and instead ran to the door, wrenching it open and sticking his head out. "Anything?!" he shouted. John and Virgil both came running up the corridor towards him.

"Nothing." John gasped. "They're not here, Scott!"

The three Tracy sons entered their father's office, grimacing as another clap of thunder echoed around them. Jeff gazed at each of them in turn. "Will one of you please tell me what's going on?" he demanded.

Scott found himself panting for breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "Dad...Alan and Gordon," he began, his throat tightening painfully and making it difficult to talk. "They're not in the house."

Jeff's frown, if at all possible, deepened even further. "What do you mean 'they're not in the house'?"

"We've checked everywhere." Scott continued, pacing up and down worriedly. "Every room, every closet and cupboard, every hiding place. Dad, we think-" he paused, swallowing and taking a shuddering breath. "Dad, I think they're outside."

Scott watched as all the colour drained from his father's face. Jeff hardly seemed to breathe as he glanced towards the stormy skies outside the window. After a few seconds, he swallowed and turned back towards his sons. Looking at the panicked expression upon each of their faces, he confirmed that this was no joke.

"Are you certain they're not in the house?" Jeff asked, his voice strained and gravelly. Scott nodded, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.

"We've double-checked and triple-checked every room." he stated shaking his head in frustration. "They're not here, dad. They must be out there."

Jeff put his head in his hands, scrubbing his face wearily. Suddenly, he exhaled sharply and leaped to his feet, a determined expression set on his face as he charged towards the door. The three boys looked slightly shocked for a moment, blinking in confusion at the seat where the Tracy patriarch had been sitting in only seconds before. Then they all seemed to snap out of their daze at the same instant, turning around and hurrying out of the door. Following their father, Virgil, John and Scott jogged alongside Jeff as he strode quickly down the corridor.

"Dad, where are you going?" Scott asked as the older man ran down the steps and yanked open one of the equipment closets that lined the right-hand wall.

"I need to find them." Jeff muttered, almost to himself. "This can't happen. Not again."

"I'll get the flashlights. We'll go outside and search for them." John stated, turning to head back down the corridor. However, Jeff reached out a hand and stopped him before he could walk away.

"No, John, I want you to stay inside with Virgil." he instructed. When both boys seemed ready to protest, Jeff held up a hand to silence them. "I don't want to risk losing any more of you out there." he explained firmly. "This storm is dangerous. I'll feel happier knowing that you two are safe inside the house. Scott, you're with me. Let's go."

Shoving a waterproof coat into Scott's hands and grabbing another for himself from the closet, Jeff swiftly started off down the corridor once more. As Scott was about to follow, John caught his arm and gazed desperately into his eyes.

"Scott," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "Just find them, okay?"

"Don't worry, John." Scott assured him, masking his own worry in an attempt to calm his younger brother. "They'll be alright. They might be pretty cold and wet, but they'll be alright. Why don't you two get some warm towels and make some hot chocolate whilst we look for them? That way, we can get them warm and dry as quickly as possible."

John nodded. "Alright. C'mon, Virge, let's get going."

Virgil hesitated slightly, obviously wanting to go with his father and eldest brother. Scott reached out a hand and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "We'll find them, Virge." he stated. "I won't rest until they're safe. I promise."

With that, he hurried off after his father. Jeff was standing outside the bay doors at the end of the corridor, two large flashlights held in his hands. As Scott approached, he handed one of them to him and zipped up his coat.

"C'mon, we need to find them." Jeff stated, his voice cracking in a way that Scott had not heard in a long while. Although Scott knew that his father still grieved over their mother's death, he rarely displayed his inner emotions to others. He merely buried himself in a pile of business reports until he dropped down with exhaustion.

Scott donned his own waterproof, choosing, like his father, to keep the hood down so that he could see better. As Jeff pulled the door open, a gust of wind blew the torrential rain inside the house, spraying Scott with freezing, wet droplets. The noise level increased tenfold, and Scott's blood ran cold. _They're out in **this**? Oh man, we're in trouble. I've gotta find them!_

As he followed his father out into the storm, he switched on his flashlight and began calling his brothers' names. The roar or the wind drowned most of his cries as he ran down the steps towards the path to the beach.

"Scott!" Jeff shouted loudly, the hood of his waterproof coat whipping out behind his head as it was blown around by the wind. "I'll check around the outside of the villa, and down near the runway. You search the path down to the main beach, and check in the tree-house. We'll meet back here in twenty minutes if you haven't found them, okay?"

Scott nodded, grabbing hold of a nearby tree as a strong gust blew him sideways. "Okay!" he managed to yell, squinting his eyes as raindrops lashed against his face. Turning around, he shone his flashlight amongst the bushes and began shouting once again for his two younger brothers, wanting nothing more than to hold them safe in his arms and never let them go.

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Jeff was worried. No, Jeff was beyond worried. A cold, sharp, painful, heart-wrenching fear tore at his chest, causing every breath to be shallow and laboured. His boys, two of his precious children, had gone missing.

"GORDON!" he yelled loudly, flashing his light into the grate of the ventilation shaft. "ALAN!"

His cries were all but swallowed up by a loud clap of thunder, and Jeff's grip around the handle of his flashlight tightened considerably. He had to find them, he just had to! _I can't lose my boys. Not my babies. Darn it, what were they doing out here in the first place?! I should have made sure they stayed inside! I should have told Gordon myself!_

He stopped dead in his tracks, his heart hammering in his chest as his head began to spin. The wind and the rain battered him left, right and centre, but it was as though he couldn't even feel it anymore. _Heavens above, when was the last time I even spoke to either of them, unless I was answering a direct question? I don't think I've said a word to Alan in weeks, except when I addressed the boys as a group. How could I have let this happen?_

To this question, Jeff easily knew the answer. _Because I was too darn afraid to even look at them. Too frightened of how much of Lucy I'd see in each of them. Whenever I tried to speak to one of them, all the memories would come back. And it was painful - it was still too painful to bear. But now look where it's gotten me! My two babies are out in the middle of a tropical thunderstorm! Oh God, how could I have let this happen? God, please, don't do this to me again! I can't bear losing them!_

Leaning heavily against the wall of a storage shed, he gasped for breath, his eyes misting over as they filled with hot tears. His sons were still nowhere to be found, and the storm was only getting worse. Filled with despair, Jeff did something that he hadn't ever tried to do before now, so great had been his fear of increasing the aching pain in his heart. He did something that he knew he should have done a long time ago. He asked his deceased wife for help.

_Lucy, I need to be strong. I need to find our babies. Please honey, watch over them for me. Protect them from the storm until I find them. They're both so young, I couldn't bear it if I lost either of them. Losing you was hard enough. I know that I haven't been spending as much time with the boys as I could have done. Heck, scrap that - I've been practically ignoring them ever since the accident. I was - I was just so frightened that they'd make the pain even worse. Forgetting about them and, consequently, forgetting about you, seemed the easiest thing to do. That's why I've been working so hard recently. I don't have to think about the past if I'm doing something productive. Oh Lucy, I can't even remember the last time I held one of our boys in my arms! What sort of a father am I? Please, give me a chance to make it up to them. I promise I'll set things straight. Please, Lucy, I need your help right now. I need your wisdom and your guidance. I need your love._

The wave of sadness and pain that normally associated itself with thinking about his wife did not come, and a small smile graced Jeff's face as he felt some of the panic ebb away. A warmth returned to his chest, and he felt his tense shoulders relax slightly. He could practically picture his wife's gentle face, her mouth set in a wide smile as she shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. Her sweet, soft voice echoed in his head.

_"It's about time, too."_

Jeff almost chuckled at the memory. That was what Lucy had said to him when he'd finally mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date. He'd been going to the cafe in which she worked for two out of three meals a day during the first month of his NASA training, sitting at the same table and enjoying long chats with the pretty female waitress during her breaks. When he had asked her the question, she had merely smiled at him and crossed her arms over her chest, before making that very remark and sighing in exasperation. _"Men"_ she had muttered, and Jeff remembered how much the two of them had laughed over that occasion in years to come.

Feeling a new sense of determination rise up within him, Jeff straightened and pushed himself away from the wall of the shed, striding off into the darkness. _I'll find them, Lucy. I'll find our boys. I won't allow our family to suffer another loss. Nature took you away from me, and I couldn't prevent that. But I **will** save our children. I swear it. I won't ever let this happen again. Not to anyone._

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**_Will Jeff and Scott have any luck in finding the two missing Tracy boys? Will Gordon and Alan make it to the edge of the jungle? Will they be able to find their way back home against the forces of mother nature? Find out in the next chapter!_**

**_Okay, people, listen up! Next update will be on Tuesday evening, okay? Back to full day of college tomorrow when the term officially begins. No more half-days or admin-days. 'sigh'_**

**_I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks again for reading!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_**


	8. Chapter 7: And They All Fall Down

**_Hi again! Ooh, well done! You've all been so patient over the past couple of days! So, as promised, here is a nice chapter from me to you. And it's been posted ahead of schedule, too!_**

**_Thanks again for all your support and everybody's reviews. I love all the suggestions you're making, they really are very imaginative and I appreciate all contributions. However, over matters concerning how the two lost boys are affected by the jungle, I have already planned the scene. However, do not let this deter you from making suggestions! Not only will it broaden your own creative minds, but it will provide me with the opportunity to use some of your ideas if they tempt my fancy._**

**_Anyway, what are you waiting for? Get reading, my friends! Indulge yourself upon another fluffy chapter! Lol._**

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"Look, Allie, it's the beach!" Gordon cried happily, feeling his heart soar. "See, I told you we'd get out of here, didn't I?"

Staggering through the trees, feeling utterly exhausted, the two boys emerged from the jungle. Gordon couldn't help but smile at the welcoming sight of the sand beneath his feet. However, as he looked around the dark beach through squinted eyes, trying to shield his face against the wind and rain with his hands, he realised that something wasn't quite right.

_This isn't the main beach. This is the little beach near that cove on the west side of the island. At least, I think it is. It all looks so different in the dark. Those big rocks over there, they look kinda like the ones that me and Scotty went climbing on last week. We could see the house from there. If this is the west beach, there should be a path right over near that big branch on the ground. Except the branch wasn't there before. The wind must have blown it down or something. Hmm, maybe I could climb up and check if I can see the villa. Then I'll know which path to take to get back to the house._

Alan clung to his arm tightly, shivering as the wind chilled him to his bones. "Gordy, I'm c-cold." he stuttered, the roar of the wind drowing most of his words. "I wanna go home."

Gordon bent down so that he and Alan were level. "It's okay, Allie, I think I know where we are." he said loudly, feeling his own skin begin to sting from the cold as the wind whipped around his wet limbs. "We'll be home soon, okay?"

Alan tried to wipe away the tears and the raindrops on his face, but more of both fell to replace them. Gordon wrapped an arm around Alan's shoulders and they stumbled over towards a large clump of rocks, fighting against the strong torrents of rain that lashed against their bodies. Another flash of lightening made both boys jump, and Alan whimpered in fright.

"Gordy, make it stop." he cried miserably, burying his head in Gordon's side and clinging to him tightly. Gordon pulled Alan behind one of the larger rocks, where they could shelter from the wind, and proceeded to gently extract the younger boy from around his midriff.

"Allie, it's okay." he assured him, although his own voice cracked slightly as his fear got the better of him. "We'll get home soon, you'll see."

"Where are w-we, Gordy?" Alan asked, his teeth chattering as he rubbed his arms in a futile attempt to warm them up.

"I think we're on the west beach, Al." Gordon replied, standing up and surveying the large boulder in front of him critically. _This looks just like the one Scotty helped me climb last week. I'm gonna see if I can spot the house from here._

"W-what are you d-doing?" Alan inquired, as Gordon grasped hold of a ledge above him and put his foot in a deep groove. Alan stood up and frowned at him.

"Alan, sit back down." Gordon told him. "You won't get blown about by the wind so much if you stay down. I'm just gonna climb to the top of this rock to see if I can spot the house, 'kay? Then I'll know how to get back home."

Alan obediently plopped back down onto the wet sand, hugging his legs and shivering with cold. "'kay, Gordy." he murmured, trying to stop his limbs from shaking too much.

Gordon heaved himself up, gripping onto the wet rock with painfully cold hands as he gritted his teeth against the pelting rain and strong winds. The boulder wasn't very high, only rising to about eight or nine feet above the ground, and Gordon had soon reached to top. Making sure that his feet were positioned as solidly as possible on the slippery surface of the rock, he stood shakily to his feet and straightened up, squinting through the rain towards the centre of the island. His heart beat rapidly and a smile blossomed over his face as he saw the bright lights of the villa shining out through the stormy darkness.

"Allie, I can see it!" he yelled excitedly. "This is the same beach that me and Scotty went to last week! Allie, I know how to get us home!"

"We can go home?!" Alan repeated hopefully, covering his eyes with his hands as the raindrops fell down from above and onto his face.

"Yeah, Al, we can go home!" Gordon confirmed. "Alright, I'm coming down. Stand back, Allie, I don't wanna step on you. We'll be home real soon now, 'kay? Don't be scared. It's gonna be alright now, see? We're goin' home!"

Feeling his hope and happiness renewed within him, the copper-haired Tracy turned around and knelt down on the edge of the boulder, slowly lowering his legs over the side. He felt a sizable ledge meet his left foot, and planted all of his weight upon it as he felt for good hand-holds on the top of the rock. _The first thing I'm gonna do is apologise to Scotty for being so rude to him earlier. Then I'll say sorry to Virge for shoving him, and I'll give Johnny a big hug 'cause he worked real hard to make dinner for us, and I wouldn't eat any of it. Hmm, I wonder if he has any left-overs. I'm getting kinda hungry. And dad - I need to tell dad how much I love him. I need to give him a hug too, 'cause I don't hate him and I know he's only working 'cause he's sad about mom dying. I can wait a little while more for him to stop working so much. I still love him. He's my dad._

All of a sudden, a loud thunderclap boomed overhead, taking Gordon completely by surprise. Gasping, he shifted his position slightly and tensed up against the crashing sound that echoed around him. Suddenly, the smooth underside of his wet sneaker _'squeaked' _loudly as it slid off the equally wet and smooth surface of the rock. Caught by surprise, Gordon didn't have time to grab onto the boulder as his body slipped over the edge and plummeted towards the ground below.

Gordon's stomach dropped as he fell, the wind whistling past him as time seemed to slow down alarmingly. He hit the ground heavily, and Gordon felt something go '_crunch'_ in his leg as he landed forcefully on his left side. Rolling onto his back dazedly, the young boy barely had time to register the fact that he had just fallen from the rock, before a massive tidal-wave of pain shot up from his left leg and elbow. Unable to focus on anything except the sharp, shooting pain in the affected limbs, he screwed his tight eyes shut and let out a loud, agonised scream.

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Scott jogged along the main beach, yelling himself hoarse in desperation. The storm raged around him, the wind and the rain battling against each other to see which would knock him to the ground first.

"GORDON!" he shouted for the hundredth time that eveing. "ALAN!"

But the only answer he received was the constant howl of the wind as it continued to mock him. The waves crashed loudly onto the shore, the trees swayed violently back and forth in the gale, the rain drummed around him in a deafening crescendo - but there was still no sign of either missing boy.

Letting out a loud sob of frustration, Scott kicked at a pebble roughly, sending it skittering across the sand. His throat felt impossibly tight, and his legs ached from running, but he refused to give up. _I have to find them! I promised mom I'd take care of them. I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to them. Oh God, please help me to find them! Please, we can't live without them!_

Glancing down at the glowing numbers on his watch, he realised that he was supposed to be meeting his father by the pool in five minutes. Gazing around at the dark beach one last time, he bit back another sob and turned around on the spot. Sprinting back down the beach, he quickly made his way up the path and towards the villa, the beam of his flashlight dancing around the bushes as he continued to search for his brothers. _Maybe dad's already found them. Maybe they were near the house when the storm started, and were just too scared to make it back inside. They might be warm and dry and safe with the other guys right now, you never know._

But his hopes were dashed once again when he exited the path and spotted his father's lone figure beside the pool. Jeff, who looked as wet and worried as Scott did, glanced up when Scott jogged to his side. Seeing that his son was alone, the older man's shoulder's slumped slightly in disappointment. Scott struggled to form words as the panic threatened to take control.

"Dad, we - we have to keep looking!" he screamed, the wind whipping his wet coat about his shivering frame. "I'm gonna go look down the other paths!"

"No!" Jeff said, grabbing hold of Scott's arm. "We need to give the house one last check before we try again. And we need to think about how we're gonna do this, we can't just run blindly into the storm. We need to plan. C'mon, let's get inside."

"No, dad, I'm not giving up on them!" Scott argued, trying to pull away from his father's firm grip.

"Neither am I." Jeff assured him, tugging him back towards the villa. "I promise you, we'll come right back out again to look for them. C'mon, Scott, come inside."

Pulling Scott forcefully up the steps, the two wet figures stumbled into the house. As they shut the door behind them, the noise level seemed to drop considerably. Scott hadn't noticed just how loud it had been outside in the storm, until he was back inside once more. With shaking fingers, Scott unzipped his wet coat and threw it to the floor in frustration.

Suddenly, John and Virgil emerged from the living room, their faces full of hope and concern. When they realised that the two older Tracy's had come back empty-handed, their expressions dimmed and their eyes became filled with despair and worry. Stepping forward, John composed himself slightly and handed them both a warm, dry towel. Scott rubbed it over his face, blinking in an attempt to hold back the tears which threatened to spring into his eyes.

"You didn't find them?" Virgil asked, his voice soft and fearful.

"No, son." Jeff said quietly, rubbing his hair with the towel John had given him and sighing. "I want you boys to have one last look around the house, alright? There's the small chance that we've just missed them somehow. I'm going to check the security footage from the camera by the pool. I'll be in my office if you find anything."

"We have a security camera?" John questioned, a frown passing over his face. "Since when?"

"I has it installed years ago, John." Jeff said dismissively. "You have no idea just how far some reporters will go when they want something. And snapping pictures of Jeff Tracy whilst he's enjoying a family holiday appeared to be the number-one priority a little while back. It was a simple security measure, nothing more. Now c'mon, we have to get going."

John and Virgil darted off in opposite directions, both wearing rather doubting expressions. It was very unlikely that they had just _happened _to miss the two youngest boys whilst they were searching the house, but they were willing to have one last look just in case. Scott, however, did not move and simply gazed up at his father.

"Dad, can I come with you?" he asked, a slight tremble in his voice. Jeff frowned at the request, but nodded his head.

"Of course, Scott." he replied, before turning around and heading in the direction of the stairs to his office. Scott followed after him, blinking back the tears and trying to quell the horrible nauseous feeling that continued to build itself up in his stomach.

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"Gordy? Allie?" Virgil called, peering into the game-room and waving his hand in front of the sensor panel. "Are you in here?"

The lights switched on, illuminating the room instantly. Virgil stood and waited, praying for a reply to come, wishing to here the cheeky response from his copper-haired brother, hoping to see the tiny blond head of his baby brother poke out from behind the couch. But no such occurrence took place. He was met with a stony silence, punctuated only by the harsh drum-roll of rain as it beat forcefully against the window.

_They're still not here. I've searched every room twice now, and there's still no sign of them! What am I gonna do?! Oh God, please don't let this happen! This is a dream, it can't be real! Gordon and Alan can't die, they just can't! They've been out in that storm for hours, and they're both so little. They won't possibly be able to survive in weather like this, they must've gotten lost or drowned or struck by lightning or - or - Oh God, please, I'll do anything, just please don't let this happen to us!_

"Virge?"

Virgil leaned against the back of the couch as he gasped for breath, his head beginning to feel light as he hyperventilated. Stars swam before his eyes and the room spun alarmingly, as his fingers dug into the fabric of the furniture. Suddenly, a strong arm was snaking it's way around Virgil's shoulders, and another along his chest.

"Easy, Virge, it's alright." the voice soothed. "Nice deep breaths for me, yeah? Just calm down, buddy. Calm down."

Slowly, Virgil managed to stop his shallow gasps long enough to take a long, deep breath. The fog cleared from his vision, and he leaned heavily against the back of the couch for support. Looking sideways, he realised that it was his older blond brother who had put his arms around him.

"That's it, Virge." John murmured, rubbing his back gently and smiling down at him shakily. "Man, you scared me half to death! I thought you were gonna pass out for a moment there. Are you alright now?"

Virgil shook his head as tears blinded him. "John, I - they - Gordon...Allie..." he whispered, hot trails marking his cheeks as he began to cry softly. John pulled him into his chest and hugged him gently.

"I know, buddy." he replied, his voice cracking with emotion as tears ran down his own cheeks. "I know."

"The storm, they - they can't -" Virgil gasped, his breathing becoming erratic once more. John's embrace tightened, and he rested his chin on top of Virgil's head, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly.

"We'll find them, Virge." he stated, a little strength coming back into his voice. "I promise you, we'll find them. Just calm down, buddy. It's gonna be alright."

"But John, they're so little." Virgil stated, squeezing his arms around John's waist. "It's not fair! Why'd this have to happen to them?"

John did not answer, but instead continued to rub soothing circles into his brother's back. His comforting arms seemed to help in calming the younger boy down, and the quiet sobs soon subsided. Virgil's tears gradually came to a stop, and he pulled away from his older brother. John kept an arm draped over the younger boy's shoulders, managing to give the brown-haired Tracy a weak and watery smile.

"Why don't I go make you a hot chocolate, yeah?" he offered, leading Virgil towards the door slowly. "It'll make you feel better. Dad and Scott are doing all they can to find Alan and Gordon. But for now, you've gotta take care of yourself, okay? No more hyperventilating on me, you hear?"

Virgil smiled in return, leaning against John's side. "Okay."

The two brothers exited the room together, both of them praying silently that the storm would soon be over soon, and that their younger siblings would be returned to them safe and sound.

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Gordon arched his back and cried out in pain as he tried and failed to move himself into a more comfortable position on the wet ground. His leg throbbed mercilessly, and he let out a loud sob.

"Gordy!" Alan cried, darting from his position behind the rock and coming to kneel down beside him. "Gordy, you fell! Gordy, wake up, please wake up! Gordy!"

Gordon managed to open his eyes and blink through his tears at his younger brother. Alan's eyes were shining with huge tears, but he managed to smile when he saw Gordon looking at him.

"You're alive!" the boy cried happily, flinging himself onto Gordon's chest and sobbing. "I th-thought you were killed, Gordy!"

Gordon tried to get his breathing back under control as the pain lessened a little. "Al-Allie?" he hiccoughed, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and mingling with the rain as it splashed endlessly onto his face. "Allie, my - aah! My l-leg. I - I've hurt it."

Alan sat up quickly, running a hand across his face and sniffing. "I'll have a look, Gordy." he stated, moving to inspect his brother's leg. Gordon's eyes widened in panic, and he reached out to grab Alan before the younger boy could get to the painful limb.

"No, Allie!" he cried desperately, gritting his teeth and sobbing at the sharp pain that spasmed in his leg. "D-don't touch it! It hu-hurts!"

Alan sat back on his heels and stared at Gordon in worry. The older boy took a deep, calming breath and clenched his hands into fists. Setting his jaw firmly, he tried to wiggle his toes. However, his foot did not respond. It was as though somebody had simply switched it off. He tried a little harder, and only succeeded in making the ache in his leg increase. Letting out another loud sob, he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and cried quietly, the tears sliding down his temples and into his wet copper hair.

"Gordy, what's wrong?" Alan asked worriedly, trying to hug his older brother as he lay on the ground. "Does it hurt real bad?"

Gordon panted for breath and tried to stifle his sobs, reaching up a hand to grasp Alan's. "Allie, my l-leg." he sobbed. "I-I think it's broken!"

Alan's eyes went wide and he glanced nervously towards the limb. "Are you sure, Gordy?" he asked. Gordon nodded and sniffed, his breaths hitching in his chest as he tried to calm himself down.

"Alan, I ne-eed you to go on your own back to the h-how-house, 'kay?" he gasped, squeezing his brother's hand. Alan looked a little shocked.

"But Gordy, I don't want to leave you!" he protested. "Not if your leg is broke!"

"Allie, please!" Gordon begged, grimacing as another spasm of pain passed through his leg. "You need to go tell Scotty and dad and the others where I am. I don't think I can w-walk on my own."

Alan's eyes filled with tears agin. "I don't know the way, Gordy! I'll get lost again, and then daddy won't be able to find you _or_ me!"

Gordon swallowed another cry of pain, reaching up to stroke Alan's sopping wet hair gently. "Al, it's okay. You can just take the path up to the how-house. It's over by the big branch on the ground. If y-you stick to the path, you can't get lost. It'll take you straight to the- Aaahh!"

Gordon, who had been trying to push himself up so that he could point in the right direction, slumped back down onto the sand as another sharp pain spasmed up his leg. His left elbow, which had before been a dull ache, flared into white-hot agony. The fingers of his left hand suddenly felt very cold, and Gordon was unable to clench them into a fist. It was as though they were too heavy to move, and indeed his whole arm felt as though it were made of lead.

Alan hugged him tightly once again, trying to comfort his older brother as best he could.

"I can see the branch, Gordy, you stay still, 'kay?" the little boy stated. "I'll go find daddy and Scotty and tell them that you're here."

As Alan stood up to leave, Gordon grabbed onto his leg. "Allie, tell Scotty that I'm on the _west beach_ near the _mushroom boulder_, okay?"

Alan frowned down at him, cocking his head to the side. "Mushroom boulder?" he asked. Gordon cried out and tensed as pain flared in his leg once again, and Alan nodded quickly. "Okay, west-beach-mushroom-boulder." he repeated hurriedly.

Gordon panted for breath once more as he tried to fight against the pain. "That's - that's right, Allie." he murmured, closing his eyes against the rain droplets that continued to fall upon his face. "Be careful w-when you're going up the path. It's - it's dark and wet."

"I'll go as fast as I can, Gordy." Alan assured him, leaning down to rub him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, daddy will be here soon. Him and Scotty will make it better."

As Alan turned and ran off into the darkness, Gordon took a shaky breath. Tears slid slowly down his wet temples as the wind continued to howl around him. _My leg hurts so bad. I wish dad were here right now. I wish I'd never come out here. What if they can't find me? What if I die out here all on my own?! Oh mom, I scared. Please don't let me die. I do want to be with you in heaven someday, but not just yet. I want to see dad again so I can tell him that I love him. And Scotty probably still thinks that I hate him. The last hing that I did was yell at him. And Virge, I haven't even said sorry for pushing him yet. And John, I never got to race my boat with him like I did with Scotty. He wanted to play with me tomorrow morning after breakfast, he said so earlier. Please mom, don't let me die before then. Let dad find me. Please..._

Shivering slightly from the cold and the damp, Gordon bit his bottom lip and began to cry once more. He was frightened and alone, uncertain that he would ever be found alive. He didn't care how annoying his family could be sometimes, all that he wanted was to be safe at home in his father's arms once again.

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**_In the next chapter, what happens when Scott can no longer take the emotional strain? How will this affect Jeff, and will he be able to do anything to help? And how will our youngest Tracy cope as he runs back up to the villa all on his own? Facing cold, wind, rain, darkness, thunder and lightening, will he be able to make it to his father in time, or will exhaustion take the better of him? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_YES, TOMORROW MY FRIENDS! I have been given a free period tomorrow afternoon, so I shall be returning home early from college. I will have the next chapter posted by the end of the evening, I promise you._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW, but don't kill me for causing our boys grievous bodily harm. After all, what kids don't break a bone every now and then? Hee hee!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxox_**


	9. Chapter 8: Emotional Downpours

**_Yay, two updates in two days! You lucky ducks! Thanks again for all the great reviews, I'm so happy that you are still sticking with me through thick and thin, despite the fact that I broke Gordon's leg. _**

**_Okay, enjoy! Be prepared for tension, tears, turmoil and a big dollop of emotional distress all in one chapter! Have fun reading!_**

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Five-year-old Alan Tracy was scared. He was more scared than he could ever recall having been before in his whole life. Running up the dirt path to the villa, his wet sneakers '_splatting_' along the ground, he tried to avoid looking at the frightening shadows that the swaying trees cast in the dim light. He could barely see where he was going, the glow-in-the-dark stripes on his sneakers just about allowing him to know where his feet were falling as he ran. Rain pelted him from all angles, freezing his already-cold limbs and splashing in his eyes.

_I have to find daddy. Gordy's hurt his leg real bad, 'cause he can't even stand up right now. I think it's broked, like he said it was. Daddy will be able to make it better, though, 'cause daddy's smart. And if daddy can't do it then Scotty can, 'cause Scotty's nearly as smart as daddy!_

A flash of lightning made him shriek in fright, and he stopped running long enough to cover his head with his arms and crouch down into a ball. Shaking from the cold and the fear, he bit his trembling bottom lip and covered his ears against the crash of thunder above him. He stayed in that position for several minutes, too frightened to move in case another flash of lightning ripped across the sky.

_I want daddy, I don't like this! Why can't daddy come and find me? Maybe they don't know that we've gone outside. Johnny and Scotty was gonna watch the storm together, so they might not know that we left the house. And daddy might still be doing work in his office, 'cause he does that lots of times in the evening. So I guess I have to go tell them. That's why Gordy told me to leave him on the beach and go find daddy and Scotty. Then they can go find Gordy and take him back to the house and make the pain go away._

Mustering up as much courage as he could, the small boy stood to his feet and continued up the stony path towards the house. Keeping his eyes ahead, he saw a flicker of light dance between the trees, followed by another stronger flare. Alan's heart soared and he forced his tired and aching limbs to go faster, despite the fact that he was so tired that his legs were ready to give way beneath him.

_That's the house! I can see the lights from the house! I got back, I got back all on my own! Now I can go find daddy, and then Gordy will be okay, and I can-_

Suddenly, his foot caught on a small stump in the ground. Tripping over, he fell heavily onto his knees, skidding several feet along the wet, slippery ground before coming to a stop and rolling onto his side. A burning, stinging pain began to throb in his knees, and he sat back on the hard ground so that he could take the weight off his legs. Hugging the affected limbs tightly, he began to cry. He wanted to make the sting go away. He wanted Virgil and John to make the pain go away. He wanted Gordon to say something funny and make him laugh. He wanted Scott to 'kiss it better' like he always did, and then ruffle his hair in the way that only Scott was allowed to do without making the youngest Tracy cross. But more than anything else, Alan wanted his daddy to pick him up and cuddle him like he used to do.

Alan couldn't remember an exact occasion, but he recalled how warm and comfortable his father's hugs had been. Something told Alan that it had been a long time since he'd gotten a proper cuddle, but the five-year-old Tracy didn't quite know why. Scott had told him that it was because of their mother dying, but that had been so _long_ ago. Alan couldn't really remember his mother, except for the pictures his brothers had shown him. He remembered little things, like her smile and the sound of her voice as she sang to him, but he could not remember anything more than that. She had died a few months before Alan's fifth birthday, and Scott had told him that he had been too little to be able to remember all that much about her. He wanted to remember, he really did, but however much he tried he could not recall her in great detail.

He was brought back to reality when the burning sensation in his knees grew in intensity. Hugging his legs to his chest, he cried softly, waiting for the pain to go away. _I bet I've broke them like Gordy did. It hurts so bad! Now I won't be able to find daddy, so Gordy will get killed by the storm and it will all be my fault!_

Despite his fears, however, the pain in his knees slowly began to recede, up until the point that Alan managed to stop crying and raise his head to look at the affected area. Extending a hand, he tentatively touched one mud-coated knee with the tips of his fingers. The stinging pain flared again, and Alan let out a sob. _Why can't I just go home? My knees hurt real bad, and I've gotta tell daddy about Gordy. I promised Gordy I'd get home quick so that daddy could go and find him. I don't wanna break my promise!_

Looking up, Alan squinted through the rain and focused on the beam of light that shone constantly through the bushes and tree ahead of him. _I can see the lights now, they're really bright. I've gotta be close to the house. I have to get their quickly, before I get hit by lightnin', or squished by a tree, or drowned by the rain, or-_

His tear-stained face grimaced as another crash of thunder echoed around the dark sky. Clenching his hands into fists, he tried taking deep breaths to calm himself, as he had seen his older brothers do when they were angry or upset about something. _I can't break my promise to Gordy. I won't. He needs me, 'cause his leg hurts even more than mine does. I just need to go a bit further, then I'll get back to the house and daddy and Scotty can look after me._

Making a decision, he stood shakily to his feet, crying slightly as his knees protested the movement. Shivering again from the cold, he staggered up the path towards the villa, keeping his gaze to the ground before his feet so that he wouldn't trip over any more roots. Stumbling a little from the fatigue in his cold limbs, he grunted and forced his legs to continue onwards, fighting against the rain as he tried to make it back home to his father.

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Jeff strode into his office with great determination, practically leaping into his chair in his haste to access the security camera files. Entering the password, he clicked the correct icon on the screen and scrolled down the page of numbers, looking for the correct time-frame. He glanced up at Scott momentarily as the teenager walked slowly into the room.

"Scott, what time did they go missing?" he asked briskly, his eyes flicking down to the screen once more.

"Um - well - I don't really know, dad." Scott replied, his voice low and flat. "I - I wasn't paying enough attention, I'm sorry."

Jeff accessed one of the files and began fast-forwarding through the footage, his eyes glued to the screen for any sign of his two missing children. _If they left the house through the bay doors by the pool, which is the most plausible theory, the camera would have recorded their movements. If we know in which direction they were headed, perhaps we'll be able to find them._

Suddenly, two blurs ran around the side of the pool. Jeff released the fast-forward control and watched, smiling slightly, as Scott proceeded to dangle John over the edge of the pool. Both teenagers were clearly having a whale of a time, laughing together as they stood beside the rippling blue water. Then John then ran up the steps towards the camera, before turning back towards Scott, who still stood at the poolside. He apparently said something offensive, for a look of mock-outrage suddenly appeared on the older boy's face. Sprinting up the stairs after the younger Tracy, the two figures disappeared from view once more.

Jeff was about to begin fast-forwarding again, but another movement caught his eye. Two smaller figured appeared at the top of the stairs, hand in hand. Running quickly, they descended the steps and sprinted off in the direction of the path to the main beach, vanishing amongst the many bushes and trees. Jeff hit the rewind button and paused the frame, staring lovingly at the small blond and copper-haired figures. _So they went down the main path. Well, I guess that's a start. At least we can pinpoint their rough location._

"Scott, they headed down the path towards the main beach." Jeff stated, rewinding the footage and playing it frame-by-frame. "Did you see any sign of them when you were down there?"

Scott did not reply, and Jeff took it that his son had simply not heard the question. His eyes still glued to the screen in front of him, he tried again. "Scott, did you see any sign of Alan and Gordon whilst you were searching the main beach?"

When there was still no reply, Jeff glanced up momentarily from the still frame of his two youngest sons, and looked over to where his eldest was standing. Immedietely, he felt concern rising. Scott was staring unseeingly out of the window, shaking his head silently as tears glistened in his eyes. His face was tense and panic-stricken, and his hands were shaking as they clenched themselves into fists at his sides.

"Scott, are you alright?" Jeff inquired worriedly, standing up and frowning in confusion at his eldest son's odd behaviour. Scott seemed to snap out of his trance, his glistening eyes turning to look at Jeff blankly.

"Dad - I - they -" he mumbled, his voice constricted with emotion. Then he shook his head sadly and backed against the wall of the office, a single tear sliding down his cheek. Jeff's fear heightened. _What's wrong with him? I haven't seen Scott cry since - since - well, since the doctors told us the news that his mother wouldn't make it. Even at her funeral, he managed to keep himself together. But now - now he looks so helpless. _

"I'm sorry." Scott whispered, his voice cracking. Then he covered his face with his hands and began to shake, sliding slowly down the wall and landing in a slumped heap on the floor. Bringing his knees up to his chest, his loud sobs echoed in the stillness of the room. Jeff was in a state of shock as he gazed at the distraught figure before him.

"I'm s-sorry, dad." Scott gasped, shaking his head in anguish as tears spilled down his cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry. I-I tried - I tried to take care of them. I tried to w-wa-watch over them properly. I tried to be a good father to them. But I - I couldn't do it, dad. I wasn't strong enough. I've let everybody down, it's - it's all my fault."

Jeff stood frozen to the spot in front of his eldest, completely lost for words. Scott's voice echoed around in his own mind. "_I tried to be a good father to them...a good father..."_

Walking forward slowly, Jeff collapsed onto his knees in front of Scott. His breath caught in his chest as Scott's shoulders continued to shake with his sobs, the tears falling quickly and silently down his face.Jeff felt his own eyes burn as his throat tightened. The guilt and pain within his chest increased tenfold as he regarded the sobbing teenager with a pained and sorrowful expression.

_What have I done to him? He's only sixteen, he's still just a kid. But for over a year, he's been their real father. And what have I done whilst he tried to keep this family together? I poured over papers, putting my business above the happiness of my own boys. I let Scott take all the responsibility, and I didn't even consider the consequences it would have on him and on the rest of the family. I was too desperate to escape the pain. How could I have been so selfish?! Oh Lucy, I've let you down. Just look at him. My poor baby..._

Sitting down beside his son, Jeff wrapped his arms around the sobbing teenager and pulled him close. Scott stiffened momentarily, trying to avoid being drawn into his father's embrace, and Jeff gently began rubbing soothing circles in his back.

"It's alright, Scott, I'm here." he whispered, tears of sadness leaking from his own eyes and trickling down his cheeks. "Just let it all out. It's gonna be alright, son. Everything will be alright."

Scott stiffled his sobs long enough to gaze up in confusion at his father. "But - but we still haven't f-found them!" Scott sobbed, the guilt shining in his tear-filled eyes. "They should never have been out there in the first place. If I had paid better attention to them, I would have stopped them before they managed to leave the house! It's all my fault!"

Jeff pulled Scott against him once more, unable to look into his son's pain-filled face any longer. "Oh Sparky, I'm so sorry for what I've done to you." he croaked, his tears splashing onto Scott's dark brown hair. "I'm sorry for what I've done to all of you. I know I've been distant and selfish ever since your mom died, and I'm sorry for putting so much responsibility onto your shoulders. But I'm here now, and I promise I'll never do this to you and your brothers ever again. You hear me? I swear it. Everything will be alright now, we'll get through this together, yeah? I'm here for you now. Don't hold back son, it's alright. Just let it out."

Scott sagged against his chest and sobbed even harder, his arms coming around Jeff's neck as he cried more than he had done in many years. The anguish and desperation in the cries nearly tore Jeff's heart in two, and he had to try very hard not to let the sound of his own sobs escape his lips.

"Dad?"

Jeff looked up to see Virgil and John standing in the doorway. Both boys wore shocked and worried expressions at the sight of their father and eldest brother crying their eyes out on the floor of the office. Jeff wordlessly detached one of his arms from around Scott's back, holding it out to his other two children. They blinked in surprise, standing unmoving for a moment, before darting from the doorway and flinging themselves into their father's embrace.

Jeff held his sons, his precious boys, close to his chest, feeling the empty pit within him fill up with love and affection. Ever since his wife had died, there had been a desire within him that had not been satisfied by work, food or sleep. A desire that had constantly nagged at him for over thirteen months. But now he knew what it had been. It had been the desire to love his children, and to _be _loved by them in return. How could he have waited so long for this day?

Another clap of thunder boomed overhead, and Jeff's thoughts returned to the current situation. His remaining sons, his two babies, were still outside in the storm. _I have to find them. My boys won't be able to survive if they lose somebody else in their family. Heck, I won't be able to live with myself, either. All of this could have been avoided if I hadn't been so darn selfish!_

Scott pulled away from him slightly, wiping his eyes and keeping an arm around Virgil's shoulders as he gazed desperately up at his father.

"Dad, we have to go back out there and look for them!" he stated, his voice cracking. "They've been out in the storm for hours!"

Jeff nodded and stood up, helping his children to their feet. Each one of his sons now had red, blood-shot eyes, but they seemed a little less stressed than they had been the last time Jeff had looked at them.

"Okay, boys, here's what we're going to do." Jeff began, keeping a hand on Scott and John's shoulders and smiling down at Virgil. "John, Virgil, I want you two to be ready and waiting in the living room with warm towels. Your brothers will be freezing when we find them, because of the length of time they've been exposed to the wind and rain. Scott, I want you to call the weather station on the mainland and see how long this storm is gonna last. By the sound of things, the worst of it is over. The wind seems to have calmed down significantly. I'm gonna go get us both a dry waterproof, and I'll leave yours hanging on the door-handle. I'll be waiting for you outside the door at the top of the staircase, alright?"

"Yes sir." Scott responded. Jeff grimaced. _How long has he been calling me 'sir'? No, I can't have that. I'm his father, not his commanding officer. And he's my son, not a cadet._

"Scott, it's 'dad', not 'sir'." Jeff stated, smiling at the teenager to show the affection behind the words. "Once we've found your brothers, we're all gonna have to have a nice, long chat about family matters. I know I've been a rubbish father over the past thirteen months. Scrap that, I haven't been a father _at all._"

His sons gaped at him in surprise, opening their mouths to protest. Jeff held up a hand to silence them. "Later, boys. I promise we'll talk this over. But right now, we need to find your brothers. C'mon, there's no time to lose."

As the three boys darted off out of the door to complete their given tasks, Jeff leaned against the wall heavily and closed his eyes. _Lucy, I've missed them so much. I've missed all of my boys. I just didn't see it before now. Please, honey, bring my two babies home. Not just for my sake, but for that of our other children. If Gordon and Alan don't make it, I - we - Oh Lucy, it would destroy this family. Please, bring them back to us._

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Alan staggered through the trees, his breathing laboured as he forced his exhausted body to keep keep moving. The pain in his knees had receded to a dull ache, but this at least meant that he could _feel_his legs. The rest of his body, however, was a different matter entirely. His feet and arms had gone numb from the cold, and his hands were getting stiff and sore from the freezing rain that lashed against them. His head ached slightly and his eyelids drooped with fatigue. He wanted to lie down and sleep, but he knew that there wasn't enough time. He had to get back to the house so that he could tell his father about Gordon.

He also wanted to say sorry to Scott for disobeying him. He knew he had done wrong, and felt decidedly guilty over what his disobedience had cost both himself and Gordon. _Scotty told me not to go outside, but I did. And Scotty told me that Gordy wasn't allowed out of his room, but I didn't listen and went with him to the beach. Now Gordy's leg is broked, and I've scraped my knees. God, if I'm real good from now on, can you please get me home? Please? I know I was naughty to not listen to Scotty, and I promise never to be bad ever again! I just wanna get home!_

Suddenly the light through the trees flared even brighter. As Alan stepped through the wall of vegetation in front of him, he was greeted with a familiar and welcoming sight. The swimming pool, although littered with leaves and branches that had been blown down by the storm, lay straight in front of him. Feeling relief and exhaustion bubbling up inside him, he stumbled around the side of the pool and up towards the steps that lead to the villa. He paused, gasping for breath and holding the stitch in his side, when he spotted a tall figure silhouetted against the light of the doorway. The figure held a flashlight, which he was shining around the pool area as the rain fell upon him in torrents.

"ALAN!" the person shouted loudly. "GORDON!"

Alan knew that voice. He loved that voice. It was the voice he had been longing to hear ever since the first clap of thunder had sounded at the beginning of the thunder storm.

_Daddy! I've found daddy! Now Gordy and me will be safe. I'm not gonna die. I'm gonna be able to say sorry to Scotty for being naughty. And daddy will make everything alright._

Staggering wearily up to the bottom of the steps, he swayed slightly on the spot as the wind blasted him sideways. Grabbing onto the stair-rail for support as he stumbled, trying and failing to remaining upright. He grunted in pain, his grazed knees burning as they collided with the bottom step when he fell forwards.

Suddenly, light blinded his eyes as his father turned around and directed the flashlight towards him. Above the heavy patter of the rain, Alan heard a startled gasp, and looked up in time to see the older Tracy run down the steps towards him. Filled with relief and exhaustion, Alan did what any other emotionally drained five-year-old would do.

He burst into tears.

* * *

**_How will Jeff react when he realises that his baby has come back to him? Will Alan be able to tell his family where abouts Gordon is on the island, or will fatigue and cold get the better of the young boy? And how is our water-loving Tracy coping with being on his own in the middle of a tropical thunderstorm? Find out in the next installment!_**

**_Okay, people, that's all for today. Yes, the ending was a bit abrupt, but this is where I had planned to leave it. If I continued, I would only have to double the length of this chapter and then it wouldn't have been posted for days! So Alan's safe, we know that, but what about Gordon?..._**

**_Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The next update will most likely be on FRIDAY, as I have a hectic day at college tomorrow, and after-college activities to participate in during the afternoon. I'll see you all on Friday, then!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you thought of my latest chapter, hmm? Big hugs!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	10. Chapter 9: A Treasure Returns

**_Hiya, guys! Sorry this update is running a little bit late. I had one heck of a bad day at college today, and then I had to skedaddle off to a dancing lesson in the evening. But I'm here now, and that's what really matters, right? _**

**_Hope you enjoy the chapter!_**

* * *

Jeff zipped up his waterproof coat, grabbing the flashlight off the floor beside his feet. Opening the door, he grimaced as rain droplets were blown into his face by the wind. Stepping outside into the darkness, he closed the door behind him and shone the beam of the flashlight in the direction of the path towards the main beach.

_According to the security footage, they were headed in that direction when they left. But then why did Scott not find them when he went searching for them along the main beach? There's no other way to get off that beach, except by swimming or - No, that's a ridiculous suggestion. They wouldn't have gone into the jungle. They would have had more sense than that._

Jeff felt his heartbeat quicken as the disturbing thought festered in his mind. _But the storm would have frightened the two of them out of their wits. Who knows what they would have done to try and hide from the thunder and lightning. _

"ALAN!" Jeff yelled, squinting his eyes against the heavy torrents of rain that streaked down from the dark sky above him. "GORDON!"

But there was still no reply. A sudden gust of wind made him step backwards slightly, before readjusting his footing. He froze, his heart thumping, when a small '_oomph!' _came from somewhere below him. Spinning around on the spot, he directed the bright beam of his light towards the bottom of the stairs, and let out a loud gasp. His heart lurched within him. There, looking as though he had just gone swimming in his clothes, stood his youngest son.

Alan gazed up at him, his face weary and pained, and Jeff started off down the steps as fast as he could. Alan's shoulders sagged in relief as Jeff approached him, the exhaustion clear in his eyes. Jeff reached the bottom of the stairs just as the five-year-old burst into tears. Falling to his knees in front of the boy, and dropping his flashlight onto the ground, Jeff gathered the small child into his arms and held him tightly.

"Allie." he managed to croak out, his own tears mingling with the raindrops on his face. "Oh baby. Thank God your safe."

Alan continued to cry loudly, his small arms encircling Jeff's neck as he clung to him. Jeff immediately became aware of just how violently his youngest son was shaking as he stood in his arms. Standing to his feet, Jeff lifted the boy up and held him close, allowing Alan's head to rest on his shoulder. _He's in shock. He's as cold as ice, and he's been out in this storm for hours. I need to get him inside._

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he gazed in the direction of the path, hoping to see Gordon as he emerged through the trees. After a minute, however, there was still no sign of his copper-haired child. _Why is Alan on his own? Did they get separated? Did Gordon become lost in the storm? Right, I need to get Alan warm and dry so that I can get some information out of him. Maybe that'll help us find Gordon._

Running up the steps quickly, he wrenched the door open and reentered the villa. Now that the noise of the storm had decreased, Alan's pitiful cries sounded even more heartbreaking. Jeff held him tighter as he strode in the direction on the living room. His heart was thudding even louder in his chest as he walked. He was relieved that Alan was alive and appeared to be relatively unharmed, other than being emotionally distressed. But Gordon was still unaccounted for. He was still at the mercy of mother nature, battling against the wind and rain in the stormy darkness outside. The mental picture was so painful to imagine, Jeff could hardly breathe.

"Alan!"

Virgil darted out of the room, swiftly followed by John. Both boys smiled with relief as they spotted their youngest brother, and John immediately stepped back so that Jeff could enter the living room. Sitting down on the couch and placing Alan on his lap, Jeff accepted the large, warm towel from Virgil and wrapped it around the wet boy's shivering body.

"Virgil, go and find Scott please." Jeff ordered. Virgil looked worriedly at the sobbing form of his baby brother, before nodding and running off quickly to obey his father's request. Extracting one arm from around his youngest child, Jeff managed to unzip his waterproof and shrug it off his body. Dropping it to the floor, he cradled Alan against his chest and rocked him gently.

"Shh." he soothed, swallowing to ease the tight pain in his throat as he blinked back the tears. "It's okay, Alan. Daddy's here. Daddy's got you. Hush now, it's gonna be alright. Just breathe, baby. I'm here." "

John sat down beside them on the couch, reaching out a hand and rubbing Alan's back rhythmically. Jeff leaned down and planted gentle kisses upon the wet blond hair, his own hands rubbing the towel-covered arms in an attempt to warm them. Alan's sobs soon quietened to small gasps and hiccoughs, the tears slowing to just the occasional trickle. Cupping his son's cold cheek with one hand Jeff held his Alan's head against his chest.

"Alan, there's some very important questions I need to ask you." Jeff said gently, turning the boy's face towards him. "And I need you to answer as best you can, can you do that for me?"

Alan hiccoughed and sniffed, nodding slightly. Jeff managed to give him a weak smile, although his heart still pounded within his chest. "That's my boy." he said affectionately. "Now, do you know where Gordon could be? Was he with you before you found me?"

Alan shook his head, the tears welling up again in his blood-shot eyes as he sobbed hysterically. "No, Gor-Gordy was tryin' to lu-look for the how-house by sta-standing on the rock." Alan cried, his breaths hitching in his chest as the words tumbled from his mouth in a desperate rush of emotions. "The-then he fell o-off, and he hurt his le-leg and he says he thinks he's bro-bro-broked it!"

"Shh, it's alright." Jeff soothed, trying to mask the panic that he felt rising within him. He brushed his fingers through Alan's haird as he rocked the distraught boy back and forth. "Don't worry, little one. Daddy's here. Everything's gonna be alright."

"Gordon broke his leg?" Virgil repeated. He stood in the doorway, his face pale and his voice wavering. Scott arrived behind him seconds later, and immediately ran into the room and crouched down in front of Jeff's legs, running his hands over Alan's back.

"Alan!" he cried, tears of relief shining in his eyes. "I'm so glad you safe! Are you alright, baby?"

Alan shivered and curled in towards Jeff's body. "I'm r-really c-co-cold, Scotty." he replied tearfully, his teeth chattering in his mouth. Jeff held him tighter and continued to rub his arms.

"Don't worry, Alan, we'll soon have you warmed up." he stated gently. "You're safe now."

"Gor-Gor-Gordy isn't!" Alan insisted, gasping as the sobs interrupted his breathing patterns. "He's still on the be-beach, 'cause he-he said he couldn't wa-walk on his own, and he told-me-to-tell-you-west-beach-mushroom-boulder-and-then-I-had-to-run back here all on my-my-my ow-own, and-

"Shh, baby." Jeff soothed, as Alan's crying began to verge on hysterical once more. "Calm down. Take nice, deep breaths. That's right, Alan."

Scott, who had been frowning as he tried to decipher the rush of words that had just come out of Alan's mouth, looked up worriedly.

"Alan, did you just say that Gordon couldn't walk on his own?" he questioned, a hint of panic lining his voice. Alan sniffed and nodded.

"He-he fell off the big rock and hi-hit his leg, and he thinks that he's bro-broked it!" the five-year-old cried. Scott's face paled considerably, but he managed to mask his fear for the sake of his baby brother.

"Allie, I need you to tell me exactly where Gordon fell down, okay?" he asked. "Do you remember?"

"Gor-Gordy said that I had to tell you 'west beach, mushroom boulder'." Alan quoted, calming down a little as he was forced to concentrate. Jeff frowned in confusion.

"Mushroom boulder?" he repeated, looking at his eldest son for an explanation.

"It's a good climbing rock on the west beach, dad." Scott explained. "We nicknamed it 'mushroom boulder' because it looks a little bit like a mushroom on one side. But anyway, that doesn't matter right now. Dad, I know where abouts he is! We can go and find him!"

Jeff nodded and stood to his feet, lifting Alan in his arms and striding towards the door. "If Gordon's broken his leg, we're going to need a stretcher and some splints so that I can immobilise it." he stated, walking swiftly down the corridor. "It's been a while since I took my EMT training for NASA, but I know how to splint a leg properly. Thank God that Tom made me take those extra med-classes!"

He lead the way to the island's small infirmary, which he had built as a precaution just in case something like this occurred. It was a fairly spacious room, with two beds and several cabinets and closets containing bandages, medicines, ointments and numerous bottles of anti-venom for the various poisonous reptiles that resided within the jungle.

Approaching the nearest bed, Jeff gently laid the towel-wrapped five-year-old upon the sheets, resting a calming hand on top of the boy's damp head. Alan's eyes were already beginning to droop with fatigue, his shivers decreasing to the occasional shudder.

"John, Virgil," Jeff said, turning towards the two boys. "I want you to look after Alan for me. Get him warm, make him drink a little bit of hot chocolate or warm milk, and don't let him fall asleep. Understood?"

John and Virgil nodded, immediately going to Alan's side and wrapping their arms around the small boy. Jeff went over to a closet in the far corner of the room, wrenching the doors open and grabbing a set of smaller splints that were especially designed for children. Thomas Palmar, a good friend of his and a skilled medical officer - who he'd met during his first year working with NASA - had insisted that Jeff had a fully-stocked infirmary on the island at all times. Thomas had recently returned from his final rotation on-board the large space station where he had been working as chief medical officer for the many years. Jeff had not seen him since the doctor had last returned from the station, almost fourteen months ago. Consequently, Thomas had been unable to attend Lucille's funeral, but he and Jeff had contacted each other with weekly messages over the comm. In fact, Dr. Palmar had been planning on coming to visit the Tracy family later that week, after the storm had passed over the pacific.

Jeff placed the splints and bandages in a med-bag, grabbing a few blankets and stuffing them in hurriedly as he stood to his feet and turned back to Scott. _Once we've found Gordon, I've gotta call Thomas. He'll know what to do to help ease Gordon whilst we wait for the storm to let up. Man, I wish I had the horse-power to fly him straight to the hospital, but Tracy One would be blown into the ocean by the stronger gales. No, we'll have to wait it out. Man, I hope Gordon isn't too badly injured. Perhaps his leg isn't broken, maybe it's just badly bruised. Maybe he won't need to go to hospital, and I can just ask Tom to fly over tomorrow morning and give the boys a once-over._

Scott stood ready and waiting, a folded stretcher held securely under his arm. Jeff admired how composed and in-control his eldest son appeared to be, and he felt a surge of pride at how well the teenager was handling the stressful situation. Yet Jeff could see the hint of fear in his eyes, the way that Scott's hand were clenched into fists, the way that his breathing was rapid and shallow. No matter how much Scott was trying to disguise his worry, the signs were still obvious to a learned father.

"Scott, we need to move fast." Jeff stated, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "Did you manage to find out how long the storm was meant to last?"

Scott nodded stiffly. "They think that it'll blow over within the next couple of hours. It'll pass to the east of us, so it shouldn't affect our flight-course to the hospital. The minute the wind dies down, it should be safe to head off."

"That's good news." Jeff sighed, coming to Alan's bedside and leaning down to plant a kiss on the shivering boy's forehead. "Allie, Scott and I are going to go and find Gordon, alright? I need you to try and stay awake until I get back, can you do that for me?"

"But d-d-daddy, I'm too s-sleepy." Alan protested weakly, his eyelids drooping even further as is limbs continued to shake. John, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, gave him a gentle shake.

"C'mon, Sprout, up and at 'em!" he said cheerfully. "Why don't I go and get you some hot chocolate, hmm? Virgil can stay here with you until I come back. Would that be okay?"

"Not thirsty." Alan mumbled wearily, leaning his head on John's shoulder and sniffing. Jeff bent down towards him and patted his cheek gently, causing the boy to open his blurry eyes and look up at him.

"Allie, the hot chocolate will help you to warm up." Jeff said softly. "I want you to try and drink just a little bit of it, okay? For me?"

"Okay, d-daddy." Alan agreed, lifting his head - with a great deal of effort - off of his brother's shoulder. Jeff managed a weak smile, leaning in close and planting another tender kiss on the cold cheek.

"We'll be back as soon as we've found him." Jeff stated, straightening up and addressing the older boys. "Until then, stay in the house, alright? I don't want either of you going out into the storm."

"Yes, dad." they said in unison. Jeff squeezed John's arm and ruffled Virgil's hair gently, before turning around and striding off towards the door, closely followed by Scott.

Making their way towards the front of the villa, they paused long enough to don waterproof jackets and retrieve two flashlights, before they exited the house and made their way quickly down the steps and around the side of the pool. Scott lead the way, jogging slightly in his haste to find his younger brother. Heading off swiftly down the path that would take them to the west beach, Jeff tried to control his emotions so that he could focus on the task at hand. He felt a desperate desire to hold his copper-haired child in his arms, and nothing was going to prevent him from doing so.

_God, please, don't let him be too seriously injured. Just watch over him until I get there. And Lucy, give me the strength to keep it together. I need to stay strong for our boys. For all our precious children._

Gritting his teeth, Jeff quickened his pace so that he and Scott were practically running down the wet sand slippery path. Shining the beam of his flashlight towards the ground before him, and hoping that he would not trip over any hidden stones or roots in the ground, Jeff squinted against the light rain-droplets that wafted into his face as he ran.

_Hold on, Gordon. Just hold on. It's going to be alright, but you've got to hold on until I find you. Don't worry, baby, I'm coming. Daddy's coming..._

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Gordon clenched his teeth together in an attempt to stop them from chattering. He'd never felt this cold before in his life, not even at the ski resort where his mother had lost her life in an avalanche. Then, he'd been wearing insulated clothing and thick woolen fleeces. Now, however, he was dressed in a thin pair of shorts and a T-shirt, laying on his back in the wet sand as droplets of rain fell from above and splashed onto his bare arms and face. His whole body shook with cold, which only succeeded in worsening the dull ache that now sat fixedly in is left leg.

_I still can't wiggle my toes, but it doesn't hurt half as much as it did before. Maybe I've just twisted it funny or something, like I did with my ankle in gym last year. That really hurt at first, and Mr. Carmick thought I'd broken it. But it was just a bad twist in the end, and I couldn't even feel it after a couple of days. Maybe it'll be the same way with my leg. Maybe I could try sitting up again and see if it still hurts as much as it did earlier._

Shifting his position for the first time in what felt like hours, Gordon tried to bend the aching leg a little so that he could roll sideways. However, he ceased all movement when a sharp stab of pain in the affected limb shot up all the way to his hip. Crying out, Gordon's head flopped back down onto the wet sand as tears leaked from his eyes. He immediately regretted trying to move, as the pain in his leg did not recede straight away. It throbbed mercilessly for several minutes, Gordon's sore elbow joining in and pulsing pain through his arm.

_Oh man, I shouldn't have done that. Aah, this hurts so bad! God, why don't you just kill me? Please? I'm gonna die here anyway. I want dad. I wanna go home. I've probably sent Alan off the wrong way, so he's gonna get lost in the jungle forever and it'll all be my fault!_

Upon thinking about his only younger brother, Gordon felt a surge of guilt rising up within him. _Why did I send him off on his own? Why was I so stupid? He's only five, he's not gonna be able to make it back to Scotty and dad all by himself! He'll get scared by the storm and run off the path and into the jungle. I should never have sent him back home. I should have told him to wait here with me until dad and Scotty got here._

Hissing through his teeth as pain flared once again in his leg, Gordon closed his stinging eyes and tried to calm himself down. But he was so _tired_. It felt as though he had been alone on the beach for hours now. At least the storm appeared to be letting up. The thunder and lightning had ceased shortly after Alan had left him, and the rain no longer fell in heavy torrents. A steady drizzle now poured down from the dark sky overhead, although an occasional star could be seen peeking through the thick cloud-cover.

_John wouldn't like the sky tonight. He and Scotty like thunderstorms, but only when there's a lot of rain and wind, and especially when there's thunder and lightning. But he doesn't like it when all the clouds block out the stars like they're doing right now. He loves the stars. I remember the time when I was about six, and John climbed on top of the roof so that he could get a better look at the stars. Dad and mom were so worried, they looked for him for hours. But he'd just fallen asleep on top of the roof. Dad wasn't so pleased with him the next day, though. He grounded John for a whole week!_

Gordon rolled his head to the side as something flashed in the corner of his eye. No, not one thing. _Two _things, to be exact. Two bright dots were wavering as they approached Gordon up the beach. Thinking he was seeing this, Gordon blinked furiously in an attempt to clear his vision. When his attempts proved to be fruitless, he squinted harder and tried to make out what the strange dark shapes were.

His heartbeat quickened as two tall figures came into focus, running up the beach towards him. _Could it really be..? No, it can't. I must be seeing things, this can't be real. Allie made it back? I'm saved! I'm not gonna die here all on my own! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!_

As the relief washed over him, so did the powerful fatigue that he had been pushing aside ever since he had fallen from the rock. Closing his eyes against the bright glare of the flashlight that shone in his direction as the figures neared his position, he let out a weary sigh.

He was going to be alright. His father had found him at last.

* * *

**_How will Jeff react to finally finding his injured child? How will Gordon react to seeing his father again after the ordeal that he has just endured? Will Scott and Jeff be able to successfully transport Gordon back to the villa? And how will Thomas react to the news that his best friend's children have been lost in a storm for over three hours? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Yes, weekend equals daily updates! Yippee! Sorry again for ow late this was posted, for those of you who live in the UK it's nearly 1:00am. Whoops. But real life is too good to ignore, right? However much I LOVE fanfiction, I do have priorities._**

**_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. PLEASE REVIEW with all your feedback/criticism/complaints/death threats(hee hee)._**

**_Until tomorrow, my friends! xoxoxoxoxoxo_**


	11. Chapter 10: Found at Last

**_Whoopee! Next chapter is up! Wow, thanks for all your great reviews, it seems as though everybody is relieved that our Tracy babies are going to be alright. Well, don't count your chickens just yet, because I'm afraid there's still a little pain and suffering coming up for poor Gordon. He does, you may recall, have a broken leg. It ain't gonna be no picnic!_**

**_Lol. Have fun reading, my friends!_**

* * *

Scott lead the way onto the wet sands of the west beach, starting off quickly in the direction of the 'mushroom boulder', which he knew to be located on the far side of the beach. His heart pounded within his chest, not from the effort of running through the storm, but for the fear and worry he felt for his younger brother. Had Gordon really broken his leg? Was he injured in any other way? Were they even looking in the right place?

"The rocks are over there, dad!" Scott called, pointing through the darkness. Jeff shone his powerful flashlight in the same direction, and came to a sudden halt.

"Gordon!" he cried, as the beam of his flashlight fell on the small figure in the distance. Breaking into a run, he sped towards the clump of large rocks, Scott falling into step behind him. As they reached the young boy's side, Jeff dropped to his knees and placed a hand on Gordon chest, allowing the flashlight to slip from his grasp and fall onto the wet sand.

"Gordon, can you hear me?" he asked worriedly. There was a soft moan, before Gordon's eyes opened slowly, and a weary smile graced his features.

"Dad?" he queried. Jeff bent closer to his son and ran his other hand down Gordon's face, the tears of relief shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, baby, it's me." he said gently, as Scott dropped down upon the sand on Gordon's other side. "It's alright, son. You're safe now."

Gordon grimaced slightly, shivering. "Dad...my-my leg..." he mumbled weakly.

"It's okay, Gordy." Scott murmured, reaching out to take Gordon's hand. Gordon hissed in pain and yanked his left arm away, causing both Scott and Jeff to look at him in concern.

"Gordon, what is it?" Jeff inquired fearfully. Gordon winced and let out a small whimper.

"I h-hit my arm when I f-f-fell." he croaked, his teeth chattering slightly. Jeff unzipped the med-bag and took out a blanket, laying it gently over Gordon's torso as Scott inspected the boy's arm.

"Where abouts does it hurt, kiddo?" he asked, frowning as the beam of his flashlight revealed a large black bruise on the small arm.

"My el-elbow." Gordon replied. "It's not bro-broken, Scotty. I can s-still move my fingers, see?"

His fingers twitched a little, and he let out another soft whimper.

"But it still hurts." he whispered, a tear sliding from the corner of his eyes and down his temple. Jeff leaned forward and stroked his hair gently.

"Shh, it's alright." he soothed. "You're gonna be alright, Gordon. I promise."

Gordon hiccoughed slightly. "Dad, my le-leg really hurts."

"I know, baby. I'm just gonna take a little look at it, okay?" Jeff stated, exchanging a glance with Scott as he spoke. "I'm not going anywhere, I just need to move over a bit so that I can see it better, alright? Scott will be right here beside you the whole time."

Jeff moved down to Gordon's feet and shone his flashlight on the young boy's legs. He immediately noticed that something was wrong. The left leg was turned inwards slightly, and there was a bump in the side of the calf that wasn't supposed to be there. Extending a hand, Jeff gently ran his fingers over the bump and felt the hard bone beneath it. Gordon whimpered and shifted slightly, and Jeff hurriedly withdrew his hand. Crawling back up towards Gordon's head, he tried to keep the worry out of his face for the sake of his second-youngest son.

"Gordon, baby, I'm afraid your leg is definitely broken." he said, taking Gordon's hand and squeezing it gently. "I need to put a splint on it to make you more comfortable, alright? It's going to hurt a little bit, but I promise I'll be as quick as I can. If Scott comes round this side and holds your hand, can you try and stay really still for me?"

Gordon nodded as Scott stood up and came to kneel down beside his father. Taking his little brother's hand, Scott managed to give the copper-haired boy a reassuring smile.

"Hey, Gordy." he murmured. "Now do you see what I meant when I told you that bouldering is a dangerous sport?"

Gordon nodded again. "I'm s-sorry, Scotty." he said, his teeth chattering loudly. "I d-didn't mean to fall off the rock. It was all sl-slippery, and I couldn't grip it p-properly."

"It's alright, buddy, there's no need to say sorry." Scott stated, running his free hand through Gordon's wet hair. "Accidents happen. This is isn't your fault."

"Ye-yes it is!" Gordon protested tearfully. "I didn't listen to you and I went out when you told me not to, and I nearly got me and Alan k-kil-killed, and then we got lost in the jungle, and I n-never thought I'd s-s-see you again, and-"

"Shh." Scott whispered gently, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Gordon's forehead. "It's alright, buddy. You're safe now."

"Gordon?" Jeff called, looking up from where he was kneeling beside the broken leg. "I'm gonna put the splint on now, okay?"

Scott gripped Gordon's hand a little harder, trying not to grimace as the younger boy cried out and arched his back in pain. The pitiful, agonised sobs wrenched at his heart and brought tears to his eyes, but he did not flinch. Gordon needed him to be strong right now.

"I'm sorry, baby." Jeff murmured, moving up to Gordon's left side so that he knelt facing Scott. "It's all over now. Shh, I'm all done."

"It hur-hurts, dad." Gordon sobbed. "It rea-really hurts."

"I know it does, Gordon, I'm sorry." Jeff said softly, rubbing his son's blanket-covered chest with one hand. "But now we can get you back to the house without making the break any worse. And then I can give you something to ease the pain a little, okay?"

Gordon nodded, his breaths hitching in his chest as he tried to stifle his sobs. Jeff kissed his forehead gently, before indicating to Scott to hand him the stretcher. Together, the two older Tracys managed to roll Gordon onto his right side so that they could slide the stretcher underneath him. Laying another two blanket's over Gordon's legs and torso, Jeff fastened the straps and secured his son onto the stretcher, being very careful not to jostle Gordon's left arm or leg. Leaving the med-bag and the flashlights on the ground beside the rock, they switched on the small lights that were attached to the front and back of the metalic frame, providing them with enough sight to be able to see where they were going.

Making there way swiftly up the beach and towards the path back to the villa, they carried their precious burden between them, glad beyond words that they were finally bringing Gordon home.

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John sat on the bed alongside his baby brother, supporting the younger boy's shoulder and raising the mug to his lips.

"C'mon, Allie." he encouraged softly. "Just drink a little bit. Just a few sips. Please?"

Alan shuddered and curled into John's sides, hugging the towel closer around his body and shaking his head. Virgil, who had been fishing around in the cupboard for the thermometer, stopped searching for the object and came back towards the bed.

"Alan, we need to get you warm." the twelve-year-old insisted. "The drink will make you feel better, Sprout. I know, why don't I get you a fresh towel? That one is looking a little damp."

Alan nodded glumly, and Virgil gave his cheek a soft caress. John watched as the brown-haired boy jogged out of the room, running his fingers through the blond hair and exhaling slowly to calm his racing heartbeat. Shifting Alan's head into a more comfortable position on his chest, he held his baby brother closer to his side.

"Johnny?" Alan questioned sleepily, his weary blue eyes gazing up into John's face. The huge orbs glistened with tears, and his bottom lip trembled slightly.

"What's the matter, buddy?" John asked worriedly, sitting up a little straighter and looking down upon Alan's shivering body. "Are you alright?"

"Johnny, will Gordy be okay?" the five-year-old asked timidly. John managed to plaster a reassuring smile onto his face.

"Of course he will, Sprout." he replied with fake confidence. "Scott and dad have been gone nearly twenty minutes now, so they should be back at any moment. And the storm has practically blown over, so we'll be able to fly him to the hospital almost straight away."

"Why does he have to go to the hospital?" Alan inquired, his brow furrowing slightly. His eyelids drooped slightly, and John gave his cheek a gentle pat so that they snapped open once more. When he was certain that he had Alan's attention, he smiled warmly at the small boy.

"If his leg is broken," John explained slowly and clearly, sensing that Alan was growing increasingly more lethargic by the minute. "Then he'll probably need to have an operation to put the bone back in the right place again. We have to take him to the hospital so that they can do some tests and see how bad his leg his hurt, and then make it better, okay?"

Alan blinked a couple of times, before shuddering violently and leaning his head on John's chest once more. "Cold." he muttered weakly.

"I know, buddy." John soothed, taking a corner of the towel and rubbing Alan's hair in an attempt to dry it a little more. "Do you want a little bit of hot chocolate now? Remember, you told dad that you'd drink some for him. Go on, have a little sip. It's not too hot, Virgil put some cold milk in it so that it wouldn't burn your mouth."

Putting the mug to Alan's lips once again, he let out a sigh of relief as the younger boy took a tentative sip of the warm beverage.

"There we go." he smiled softly. "See, it's not that bad, right?"

Alan took another sip and swallowed, licking the light brown liquid off his top lip and yawning wearily.

"Johnny, I'm kinda sleepy." he said quietly. "Can I just close my eyes for a little while. I won't _really_ be sleeping, I promise."

John smiled fondly, but shook his head. "See if you can keep your eyes open a little bit longer, 'kay? Just until dad gets back."

As if on cue, the infirmary doors opened and Jeff and Scott entered the room, carrying Gordon between them on the stretcher. Virgil was the last to enter, gripping the towel he held so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He gazed at Gordon with a mixture of relief and concern, his breathing rapid and shallow.

"Gordon!" John cried, desperate to go to his copper-haired brother's side, but unwilling to leave Alan on his own in case he fell asleep. Setting the mug of hot chocolate down on the bedside table, he craned his neck to see what his father and eldest brother were doing.

"Okay, kiddo, we're here now." Scott was saying, as he and Jeff succeeded in setting the stretcher down upon the unoccupied bed. "Your safe. It's gonna be alright."

Gordon, however, did not appear to have heard his eldest brother's words. His eyes remained closed, as though he were merely sleeping, bt the pallor of his skin belied his otherwise peaceful appearance.

"Gordon, can you hear me?" Jeff questioned, leaning down towards the bed and patting the boy's cheek gently. The remaining Tracy sons watched with baited breath for any sign of Gordon responding to his father's call. But there was none. Jeff's worried frown deepened, and he shrugged off his waterproof coat so that he could fish around in his jacket pocket for his cell phone. When he had retrieved it, he dialled a number, putting the phone to his ear and looking up at Scott.

"I'm phoning Tom." he explained. "He'll know what to do. I'll be outside in the corridor. If he wakes up, come and get me, alright?"

Scott nodded, running a trembling hand through Gordon's damp copper hair and trying to steady his breathing. Jeff gave his eldest son's shoulder a squeeze, before turning around and swiftly exiting the room. Scott sighed and swallowed, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach.

_Gordon will be fine. It's just a broken leg, right? And he's just passed out from the pain, or the cold, or from exhaustion, or - or something. Once he's warmed up a little, and dad's given him some pain-killers, he'll wake up again. I know he will. He's gonna be fine._

"Scott, how is he?" asked John, nudging Alan gently in an attempt to keep him awake. Scott sighed and shook his head.

"I don't know, John." he said softly. "I just don't know."

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"Jeff! It's good to hear from you. How are things in the mad-house?"

"Tom!" Jeff said, pacing in an attempt to rid himself of all the nervous energy that seemed to pulse through his veins. "Tom, there's been an accident. I need your help."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, before Thomas's voice filtered through once more, lined with concern. "Jeff, what's happened? Your breathing is erratic. I want you to take a deep breath in through your nose, and exhale slowly through your mouth. Got it?"

"Tom-" Jeff began, but the other man cut him off.

"Jeff, breathe." he said firmly. "You're going to hyperventilate if you're not careful."

Knowing from experience that it wasn't wise to directly disobey the doctor, even when he couldn't reach you physically, Jeff forced himself to suck in a long breath through his nostrils. Exhaling slowly, Jeff was surprised when he felt a good portion of the panic and stress ebb away from within his chest.

"Alright, now tell me exactly what happened." Thomas instructed clearly. "Why do you need my help?"

"Tom, there was a storm on the island." Jeff said hurriedly, although his heart no longer pounded rapidly within his chest. "Alan and Gordon - they were caught out in it for hours. Alan managed to get back to the house on his own a little while ago, but Gordon-" he stopped, running a hand over his face and taking another calming breath. "Oh Tom, Gordon fell off one of the boulders on the beach. He's fractured his leg, and bruised his arm pretty badly. I can't fly him to the hospital for another hour or so, because the storm still hasn't passed over us. What am I supposed to do?"

"Jeff, listen to me." the doctor ordered, his voice firm but soothing. "I know that you're stressed and worried, and - if I know you - feeling exceedingly guilty over what's happened, but you have to stay calm, alright? Now, do you know what sort of fracture he's sustained?"

Jeff ran his hand through his damp hair as he tried to concentrate. "It hasn't broken the surface of the skin, so it's not an open fracture." he said, trying to recall the medical terminology he had once studied. "But it's no longer attached at the same angle to the rest of the bone. It's a - a - Oh darn, it's a what-do-you-call-it fracture."

"A closed oblique fracture?" Tom offered. Jeff snapped his fingers.

"That's the one. It's a closed fracture of the left Tibia - or is it Fibula?" he paused again, unsure which bone had been fractured.

"Jeff, don't sweat it, the name of the bone itself doesn't matter." the other man interjected. "What you're trying to say is that it's a closed oblique fracture of one or both of the bones in Gordon's lower left leg, right?"

"Right." Jeff confirmed, feeling himself calm at the sound of his friend's gentle voice. Then his heart wrenched once more as he remembered one very important fact. "And Tom, Gordon fell unconscious before we got back to the house. I don't know if it was from the pain or simply from exhaustion. Both he and Alan were as cold as ice, too. The wind and rain out there were a chilling combination."

"Have you gotten the both of them dry yet?" Thomas inquired. "If they've been exposed to the stormy conditions for a lengthy period of time, they would have lost a considerable amount of body heat through their exposed skin."

"I wrapped them both in towels, but I haven't had a chance to get them changed out of their wet clothes yet." Jeff replied, realising that this should have been the first thing to do when Alan had returned. "That's next on the agenda."

"Okay, that's good." Thomas said calmly. "Now, do you know if Alan has any injuries?"

Jeff thought for a moment. _Damn, I didn't even check him for injuries! But he didn't appear to be in any pain, I think he was just exhausted and upset._

"He didn't complain of having pain anywhere." Jeff stated. "So I thought that, other than being as cold as ice and physically exhausted, he was alright."

"I'd check him over, just to be sure." the doctor advised. "If he was in shock when he returned home, his emotions would naturally block out a certain amount of pain or discomfort."

Jeff suddenly felt a pressing need to examine his youngest child, just to make sure that he was not injured in any way. "Tom, can I call you back?" he asked. "I want to get Alan and Gordon into dry clothes. I've splinted Gordon's leg as best I can, is there anything else I can do before we take him to the hospital?"

"Other than keeping him warm, no." Thomas replied. "If he wakes up, give him the maximum dose of paracodeine. It should say what the doses are for children Gordon's age on the back of the bottle. If you have any more questions, call me immediately, alright? I'm going to fly over to Brookfield hospital, but I won't arrive for about four hours yet. I should be there by the time Gordon is out of surgery."

"Thanks, Tom." Jeff said sincerely, grateful that his dear friend would be with him to offer his support. "I'll call you back as soon as the storm has cleared and we're ready to leave. Jeff out."

As he snapped the phone shut, he almost smiled at the way he had ended the conversation. _'Jeff out'. Huh, I guess being around Tom forces me to slip back into 'astronaut-mode'. Man, I've missed having him around. Maybe he could have snapped me outta my work obsession before now._

Striding back into the infirmary, he glanced over at Gordon, who still lay unmoving upon the bed. Sighing in worried frustration, Jeff turned away and apprached Alan's bed instead. The five-year-old was struggling to keep his eyelids open, and his head repeatedly drooped forward onto John's chest before the older boy nudged him awake again.

Upon seeing his father beside the bed, John relinquished his hold on Alan's body and hopped of the bed so that Jeff could take his place. Alan began to roll sideways, until both John and Jeff grabbed him and pushed him upright once more.

"Allie?" Jeff said, sitting on the bed and pulling the boy towards him. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm cold, daddy." Alan murmured wearily. "And I'm all sleepy, but Johnny says that I'm not allowed to go to sleep just yet."

Jeff felt the damp towel around his son's body, and frowned slightly. "Let's get you into some dry clothes, shall we? Your _so_ wet, even the towel is wet, see?"

Alan smiled sheepishly. "S'not my fault, daddy." he slurred, blinking the fuzziness out of his vision. "The rain got me all wet."

Virgil came to the bedside and handed Jeff the towel he had been holding. "I got him a fresh towel because his other one was getting damp." he explained shyly. "But I forgot about it when you came back with Gordon. Sorry, dad."

Jeff accepted the towel with an affectionate smile. "That's alright, Virgil. I think all of us are a little distracted at the moment."

Virgil's face brightened considerably, and he returned his father's smile. Stepping closer to the bedside, the brown-haired boy ran a hand down his baby brother's leg tenderly. He withdrew the hand sharply when Alan yelped in pain and recoiled into Jeff's arms.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Jeff asked worriedly, feeling his heartbeat quicken once more.

"I fell over when I was runnin' back home." Alan said, grimacing at the stinging sensation in his knee. "I hurt myself, but I forgot about it 'til Virge just touched my knee. Daddy, it hurts, can't you make it go away?"

Jeff unwrapped the wet towel from around Alan's body, dropping it onto the floor and leaning in closer to inspect his son's knees. They were caked in mud, but Jeff could see the scuffed skin and red blood that shone beneath the dirt on both of Alan's legs.

"Ouch, that looks painful." he muttered, keeping an arm around Alan's shoulders to support him. "We've gotta get that cleaned up, Alan."

"I'll get some water and a flannel." Virgil offered, turning away and jogging across to the other side of the room, where he proceeded to fill a small metal basin with water. Jeff unfolded the clean towel and wrapped it about Alan's shoulders carefully.

"You were so brave, you know." he stated proudly. "Running all the way back here on your own. I'm very proud of you, Allie."

Alan smiled up at him tiredly. "Really?"

Jeff held the boy closer to is chest. "Really." he confirmed.

"Daddy?" the five-year-old asked hesitantly.

"Yes, son?" Jeff inquired, rubbing Alan's arms with the towel to warm them up as he had done before.

"You're warm, daddy." Alan stated. "If I cuddle you lots, will I get warm too?"

Despite the stressful circumstances, Jeff felt a delighted grin blossom across his face - the first since his wife's death over a year ago. "I don't know, Allie." Jeff replied, in a voice of deep contemplation. "Why don't you give it a try and see if it works."

"Okay." Alan agreed, extracting his arms from within the towel and putting them around Jeff's waist. After a moment, Jeff rubbed Alan's back and bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Is it working?" he asked, noticing that Alan's shivers had lessened somewhat.

"I think so, daddy." Alan murmured, his face buried contentedly in Jeff's shirt-front. "I feel lots warmer than I did before."

Jeff chuckled slightly, feeling a warm and happy sensation bubbling up inside him. The feeling was familiar, but Jeff knew it had been far too long since he'd experienced it. How could he have ignored so precious a child for over a year? Jeff's hatred for his old work-obsessed self grew considerably.

"Dad!"

Jeff's head shot up towards Scott as his eldest son cried out. Scott was leaning over the other bed, a worried expression on his handsome face.

"What is it, son?" Jeff inquired. Scott looked over at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and concern. He swallowed and glanced back down at the figure who lay upon the bed.

"Dad, it's Gordon. I think he's waking up."

* * *

**_Will Gordon regain consciousness? Will Jeff and the boys be able to take care of him until the storm has blown over? Will Alan be able to stay awake, or will the fatigue become too much? And what of his poor skinned knees? Find out on Monday!_**

**_Yes, on Monday. I have a lot on my to-do list tomorrow, so I won't have time to do a chapter to the best of my ability. So you'll all have to be patiant and wait until Monday! Hah! Lol, just kiddin'. I love ya!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW! As always, I appreciate all your comments and concrit. Laters!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxox_**


	12. Chapter 11: Of Daddies and Disinfectant

**_Hiya folks!_**

**_Okay, big apologies for not updating on Monday like I promised to do. There was a major family emergency, and the long and short of it was that somebody broke into my grandma's house. My grandma was in the garden when it happened and, although they didn't hurt her, she saw them through the kitchen window and it scared her half to death. She had an severe panic attack (which was made all the more sever because she has a weak heart and breathing problems) and we had to drive over to the hospital to pick her up so that she could spend the night with us. Good news is, she's okay now, and the police have determined that the robbers didn't actually steal anything of value. The police have got CCTV footage of the men in another part of the city, so I hope they'll soon be caught before they do any more damage. _**

**_And yesterday - what happened? Don't ask me why, but this site would _not_ let me edit a chapter or send a review. It went kinda crazy. So yeah, those of you who were aware of this problem, do you know why it happened? It just made me frustrated._**

**_So, I hope you can all forgive me for not posting this chapter before now. It wasn't exactly intentional. But now I'm finally back and ready to roll! 'sigh' I need massage. Well, maybe a healthy dose of family fluff will have to suffice for now. _****_Anyway, on with the show! Please enjoy!_**

* * *

Gordon opened his heavy eyelids and blinked up at the worried face above him. He was tired. So, so tired. _Why is Scotty looking at me like that? What's wrong? Am I sick or something?_

"Gordon? Baby? Can you hear me?" a voice questioned. Gordon rolled his head over to the side slightly, forcing his eyes to focus upon another figure.

"Dad?" he questioned. _What's happening? Where am I? How did I get hear? Ow! Why - why does my leg hurt so much?!_

He grimaced as he became aware of a dull throb in his left leg, grunting slightly as he tried - and failed - to move it. With a start, all the memories from the past few hours came back to him in a rush. Glancing up at his father once more, he took a shaky breath.

"Are we home?" he asked. Jeff smiled at him and nodded.

"Yes, son. You're in the infirmary." he told him gently. "How do you feel?"

Gordon winced again as another twinge of pain spasmed in his elbow, and he swiftly decided to refrain from any further movement. "My leg hurts." he mumbled. "And my arm does, too."

Jeff reached out of his field of vision to retrieve something, and Gordon blinked as the bright glare from the light on the ceiling caused his weak eyes to sting. When his father turned around again, he held a small plastic measuring cup in his hand, which contained a thick white liquid. Nodding towards Scott, he signalled for the eldest Tracy son to lift Gordon's head off the bed a little. The cup was put to Gordon's lips, and a sickly-sweet smell wafted towards the boy's nostrils. He grimaced again, looking up at his father for an explanation.

"It's some medicine that'll help to make the pain go away." Jeff said softly, brushing his fingertips gently over Gordon's brow as he bent close to his face. "It's not going to taste very nice, but it'll help with the pain. You need to drink it all down, okay?"

Gordon nodded wearily, allowing the sticky substance to slide into his mouth. It tasted repulsive, and he had to force himself not to spit the liquid out as the cup was tipped up and the last dregs of the disgusting medicine trickled through his parted lips. Swallowing mightily in order to retain as little of the unpleasant after-taste as possible, he grimaced again.

"Yuk." he stated weakly. Jeff smiled and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

"That's my boy." he whispered proudly. Scott gently lowered Gordon's head back onto the pillow, running his fingers over his little brother's cheek.

"Hey kiddo, at least it doesn't taste as bad as my cooking, right?" he joked softly. Gordon smiled sleepily.

"Nah, at - at least it won't p-poi-poison me." he replied, his teeth beginning to chatter once more. Jeff and Scott looked at him in concern, but he barely registered their presence as he closed his eyes and clenched his right hand into a tight fist against the chills that washed over his body. _It's so cold. And I'm so tired. Maybe I should just close my eyes for a little while. Just for a few minutes..._

"Gordy, you've gotta try and stay awake, alright?" Scott urged, worry lining his voice. "C'mon, buddy, open your eyes for me."

Gordon tried, but the exhaustion was too strong for him to battle with. He felt two warm hands cup his face, he heard the desperate calls as both his father and brother tried to prevent him from slipping away again, but it was of no use. With a weary sigh, Gordon released his hold on painful consciousness and allowed the welcoming darkness to engulf him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Gordon!" Jeff cried worriedly, as his son's tense body relaxed against the bed once more. His thumbs gently brushed over the cold cheeks, his heart pounding within his chest as he gazed at the pale and unmoving form before him.

"Did he pass out again?" asked John, from where he sat on the other side of the room with Alan. Jeff inhaled slowly through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth. As it had done before, the act calmed Jeff considerably, and he turned towards his blond-haired sons wearing a more in-control expression.

"Yes, John." he replied softly, running a hand over his face and sighing. "He's out again."

"Why?" asked Scott, his voice lined with concern as his fingers played with Gordon's copper locks. "What happened? Was it the pain? Didn't the meds work? Hang on, do you think he might have hit his head or something?"

"It's just the effect of the meds, Scotty." Virgil stated, coming to stand beside Gordon's bed. "That and the physical exhaustion must have knocked him out."

Jeff blinked at the twelve-year-old in surprise_. Since when has he spoken like an adult? Man, he's growing up fast. And how long has he been that **tall**? _

However, as Virgil's statement was true, Jeff could do nothing except agree with him.

"Virgil's right, Scott." he said calmly. "I've already checked Gordon for head injuries, and there isn't any sign of one. As your brother said, it's just a mixture of the pain medication and fatigue. That particular type of paracodeine is designed to work almost instantly. Tom always made sure that I had a bottle of it on the island, just in case something like his happened. I've never had to use it before now, though."

"Do you think you should call Tom again?" Scott inquired. Jeff pondered this for a moment, before shaking his head. "Maybe he'll know if there's anything else we can do."

"Other than monitoring his condition for any signs of deterioration, and keeping his leg immobilised, I don't think there's anything we can do for Gordon right now." he replied sadly.

Scott nodded glumly and looked up, glancing over to where Alan and John were sat on the other bed. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

"Allie, what did you do to your knees?" he asked, leaving Gordon's bedside and striding across the room towards his baby brother.

"I fell over and hurt them, Scotty." Alan replied, moving away from Scott's hand the teenager reached out to inspect them. "They still hurt a bit, so don't touch'em, 'kay?"

Jeff and Virgil joined Scott around the bed, the Tracy patriarch moving to swap places with John. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside his youngest child, putting his arms around the small boy and offering him a reassuring smile.

"Alan, we need to get those knees of yours cleaned up a bit." he stated gently. "I think that one's gonna need a bandage on it, it looks pretty deep."

He pointed to Alan's right knee, which appeared to be bleeding a little more than it's partner. The sticky red liquid shone through the dirt, highlighting the roughed-up skin and contrasting shockingly with the light-brown of the mud. Alan glanced down at it and winced, before shivering and hugging the towel around his shoulders.

"Daddy, I'm still cold." he murmured. Jeff squeezed him into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head.

"It'll be alright, baby." he soothed. "Once your scrapes are all cleaned up, we'll get you into some dry clothes, okay? Then you won't feel so cold anymore."

Alan nodded wearily, and Jeff turned to look across the room at John, who was now sitting at Gordon's bedside and drying the damp copper hair with a towel.

"John, could you run upstairs and fetch a change of clothes for both Alan and Gordon?" he asked. "We need to get them warm and dry as soon as possible."

John nodded and stood up, throwing a final worried glance towards the unmoving form of his younger brother. Then he turned away swiftly and sprinted out of the room to follow through with his task. Jeff looked back down at his youngest son, who was gazing at him with a sleepy but questioning expression upon his small face.

"Is it gonna hurt a lot when you clean it up, daddy?" he asked quietly. Jeff gave him another gentle squeeze and kissed his temple tenderly.

"It's gonna hurt a little bit." he admitted. "But we have to get them clean, or else they might become infected."

Alan gazed down apprehensively at his knees, before taking a deep breath and looking back up at his father.

"Okay, daddy, I'll be brave." he said, his voice full of innocent determination.

Jeff smiled at him fondly and ruffled his hair. "Good boy."

"Scott and I can get the stuff, dad." Virgil stated, heading over to where he had left the basin of water. "Why don't you sit with Alan whilst we clean up his knees? It'll make him feel better."

Again, Jeff was taken aback by his son's logical reasoning. Favouring the brown-haired boy with an affectionate smile, he nodded his head. "Good idea, Virge. Do you know where everything is kept?"

Scott managed a small laugh. "He probably knows better than the rest of us, dad." he said proudly, clapping Virgil on the back. "He's a far better first-aider than anyone else in the family. Well, other than yourself, perhaps."

Virgil blushed slightly, pulling up a chair and a small metal trolley to the bedside. Jeff looked at him quizzically. "Why's that?" he asked.

"Virge took a first-aid course at school almost a year ago." Scott explained, setting a small box down upon the trolley. "Since then, he's been the one in charge of all things medical, isn't that right 'doctor'?"

"Scott, don't call me that!" Virgil groaned, placing a bottle and a packet of gauze-pads beside the box and heading over to the other side of the room. He turned on the tap at the sink and squirted some anti-bacterial soap onto his hands. "Honestly, I bandaged Gordon's arm _one_ time, and I get my own title!"

"Yup!" Scott smiled.

"And why do I put up with it?" Virgil asked himself with an over-dramatic sigh, swilling his soap-covered hands under the tap before grabbing a hand-towel and striding back towards the bed.

"Two words, bro." Scott replied, grinning. "_'Older brother_.' It's my right to tease each one of you."

"But Scotty, you told me it was bad to tease people." Alan interjected, a look of confusion passing over his face. Scott opened and closed his mouth for a moment as he tried to think of a way to explain his last statement without undermining his position. Virgil snorted in amusement, smirking triumphantly at his older brother.

"I didn't mean the nasty sorta teasing, Al." the eldest brother explained, pulling up a chair beside Virgil's. "I meant the joking kinda teasing. Like when you and I call each other silly names for fun, see?"

A light of understanding dawned in Alan's eyes, and he leaned his head contentedly against Jeff's chest once more. "Okay." he said simply.

Jeff smiled slightly at the playful comments being passed between his children, glad to see that they were all calming down a little now that the two youngest boys had returned home. Moving a little closer to Alan's side, Jeff swung the boy's legs up and over the edge of the bed so that the small boy sat facing Virgil and Scott. Putting an arm around his youngest son, he turned Alan's head towards him.

"Allie, Virge is just gonna clean the dirt off your knees, alright?" Jeff said gently, as Virgil took up the flannel and dipped it in the bowl of water.

Scott leaned forward and put a reassuring hand on the lower part of Alan's shin, partly so that he wouldn't kick Virgil in the face by accident, and partly to offer comfort to his baby brother. Alan winced as the wet flannel was pressed against his left knee, shifting slightly and recoiling into Jeff's side. When Virgil rubbed the skin a little to remove a larger clump of dirt, Alan hissed through his teeth.

"Ow! Virge, that hurts!" he complained, gripping onto Jeff's shirt with all his might.

"Sorry, Al. I'm nearly done." Virgil stated, dabbing a little more water onto the cut. After a moment he nodded in satisfaction, patting the now-clean knee dry with a gauze swab. He turned to Scott and frowned. "Do you think this one needs a bandage, or shall I just put one of the bigger band-aids on it?"

Scott leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he inspected the wound. "It's quite deep, but I think a band-aid should do it." he remarked. He looked up towards Jeff. "What do you think, dad?"

Jeff peered down at the raw, red wound that had begun to bleed again around the edges. "I agree, I think one of the larger band-aids will cover it up nicely. But you'll need to put a bit of disinfectant gel on it first. It still looks a little bit grubby in places."

Alan looked up at him apprehensively. "Is that the nasty blue stuff that really stings?" he asked in a small voice. Jeff hugged him tighter and rubbed his back with his free hand.

"Yeah, it's gonna sting a little bit, Alan." he replied. "But it'll make sure that your knee doesn't get infected."

Alan looked sceptical, but did not protest as Virgil took the tube of gel from Scott's hand and squeezed a small amount onto his fingertips. Taking a deep breath, the five-year-old gritted his teeth and watched as his older brother dabbed the blue substance onto his injury. A fire-like sting flared in his knee, and his hands tightened their hold around his father's waist.

"Ow, ow, ow!" he hissed quietly, his face twisting into a pained grimace. Tears pooled in his aqua-blue eyes, but he managed to keep them at bay until the sting had lessened slightly. As the burning sensation subsided a little, he let out the breath he had been holding and sniffed quietly.

"Good job, Sprout." Scott congratulated affectionately, cutting a large strip off the roll of band-aid. He handed it to Virgil who, instead of applying it to the wound, stood up and headed over to the other side of the room. Taking up a pen from the holder on one of the cupboards, he leaned against the counter-top and proceeded to draw upon the band-aid. After a few seconds, he dropped the pen back into the holder and returned to the bedside, waving the band-aid in front of Alan's tear-filled eyes.

"See?" he smiled gently. "Most other kids get boring old plain ones, but _you _get a cool one."

Alan's face brightened as he admired the large space-rocket Virgil had drawn upon the band-aid. Smiling, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Thanks, Virge." he said quietly. Jeff blinked in surprise at the accuracy of the simple drawing. Virgil had always been good at art, ever since he had been old enough to draw a stick-man. But this - it was almost as though it had been drawn by a professional artist. Could somebody really improve that much in a year? Apparently so. Again, Jeff was reminded of just how much of his sons' lives he had missed since his wife's death. It was another harsh slap in the face.

"There we go, that's that knee all done." Scott stated, as Virgil smoothed the band-aid down over the wound. "Just your right one to go, Sprout."

"Got them!"

Jeff turned his head as John jogged back into the room, clutching a small pile of clothes in his arms. Extracting half of them, he placed the bundle at the end of Gordon's bed, glancing worriedly at the still and unmoving form. Then he turned towards Jeff and managed a weak smile, walking forwards at a slower pace and setting Alan's clothes down on the small table beside the bed.

"Hey, Allie." the older blond said, coming to stand behind Scott's chair. "How're you feeling?"

When there was no reply to this question, Jeff looked down to where Alan was leaning against his chest. The five-year-old was fast asleep, his hands loosely gripping Jeff's shirt as he breathed softly. Jeff's initial reaction was to awaken his sleeping son, but he stopped himself before he did so.

_The kid's exhausted. He's so young, and his body is worn out from all that's happened this evening. I don't think allowing him to sleep for a while will have any effect on his health. Hmm, but I need to get him out of these wet clothes. And cleaning up his other knee will be enough to awaken him, anyway. But I don't see why he shouldn't be allowed to sleep for a little while. I know, I'll give Tom a call later. He'll know what to do. _

Alan suddenly grunted and stirred in Jeff's arms. Looking up, Jeff saw that Virgil had been trying to clean the deeper wound on Alan's knee whilst the younger boy had been asleep. He had already finished washing the dirt off of it, and was now about to apply disinfectant gel to the injury.

"No." Alan muttered sleepily, cracking his eyelids open slightly and pulling his leg out of Scott's grasp. He let his head fall back against Jeff's chest and sighed wearily. "Sleepy." he slurred.

Scott took hold of Alan's leg again, ignoring the quiet protests coming from his baby brother. Alan's eyes snapped open once more, and he gazed groggily at Virgil, whimpering slightly as the older boy moved to apply the gel once more.

"No." he protested tearfully. "I wanna sleep."

"You can go to sleep in a minute, Alan." Jeff assured him gently, wrapping his arms tighter around the boy's small frame. "Once Virgil has finished cleaning up your knee, we'll get you into some dry clothes and you can have a nice long sleep. How does that sound?"

Alan blinked up at him through weary blood-shot eyes. Then he gasped and stiffened in Jeff's arms, turning back towards his older brothers with a pained whimper. Virgil had quickly dabbed the gel onto Alan's knee whilst the boy had been temporarily distracted. Tears welled up in Alan's sleepy eyes, and his bottom lip trembled slighty as he sniffed and buried his head in Jeff's side.

"There we are, it's all over now." Scott stated softly, helping Virgil to secure a gauze pad in place over the wound using a blue bandage. "See? Your knee looks cool, Sprout."

But Alan was clearly not in the mood for jesting, too weary to do anything except cling to his father and cry quietly. Jeff scooped the small boy up in his arms, setting him down upon his lap and rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him.

"Shh." he soothed, resting his cheek against the blond hair. "It's alright, baby. We're all finished now. Just calm down, Allie, daddy's here. That's it, there we go."

Slowly, Alan raised his tear-stained face towards his father and sniffed pitifully. "C-can I go to sleep now, da-addy?" he croaked, hiccoughing quietly. Jeff kissed his forehead and smiled.

"Let's just get you into some dry clothes first, hmm?"

Alan sniffed and nodded. "'kay."

Looking at his other three sons, Jeff indicated Gordon's bed. "Could you boys see if you can get Gordon out of those wet clothes? Cut through them if you have to, just be careful with his left leg and arm."

Virgil nodded in apparent understanding. "Especially taking off his shoes. If we pull too hard, it might make the break worse. Right dad?"

"That's right, son." Jeff confirmed, beginning to untie Alan's shoelaces. "I'll be over to help as soon as Alan's settled."

As Scott, John and Virgil moved away to attend to their copper-haired sibling, Jeff gentle pulled off Alan's sneakers and dropped them to the floor, peeling the wet socks off the boy's feet and rubbing the cold skin with a towel.

"Daddy?" Alan murmured, his eyes drooping once more. "Why is Gordy allowed to sleep when I'm not?"

Jeff sighed and pulled Alan's wet T-shirt over his head, drying the boy's chest and back before answering his question. He grasped Alan's arms gently, gazing into the exhausted blue orbs with a solemn expression.

"Allie, Gordy isn't really asleep." he said softly. Alan's brow knotted in confusion and he blinked up at Jeff sleepily.

"Is he pretending?" the five-year-old inquired. Jeff shook his head sadly and picked up the clean sweatshirt, pulling it down over the blond boy's head and beginning to maneuver one of Alan's arms into a sleeve.

"No, son, he's not pretending." Jeff continued. "He's unconscious. It's kinda like being asleep, except it's very hard to wake him up."

Alan nodded slightly. "Scotty told me that I was un-uncon-unicorn-"

"Unconscious." Jeff offered gently, and Alan nodded again.

"Scotty said that I was like that when mommy died in the accident." he continued slowly, his heading dropping closer to his chest, before jerking up again as he tried to keep awake.

"Yeah, baby." Jeff whispered, his chest tightening as he remembered how close he had come to losing all of his family that day. "You were."

Shaking his head to rid himself of the horrific images that flashed across his mind, Jeff continued to change Alan into the dry clothes. His mind kept returning to that terrible day thirteen months earlier, and consequently Jeff did not pay close enough attention to the task he was performing. Therefore, as he swiftly pulled the clean shorts over Alan's knees, the young boy yelped loudly and burst into tears. Cursing himself inwardly for forgetting about his son's injuries, Jeff sat the boy on his lap once more, rocking him gently and murmuring soothing words of comfort.

"Sorry, baby, I'm sorry." he murmured, planting a gentle kiss on Alan's cheek. "It's alright, Allie. Just close your eyes. That's right. It'll be okay. Shh, go to sleep."

Alan sniffled as Jeff pulled back the covers and carefully placed him on the bed. Wrapping an extra blanket around the small form, and drawing the covers back over him, Jeff tucked Alan into bed.

"Daddy?" the five-year-old slurred, cracking his eyelids open momentarily.

"Yes, son?" Jeff asked, leaning in towards the bed so that he face was close to Alan's.

"Love you." the boy whispered. Jeff felt tears pool in his eyes, and did not mind when they spilled over and ran down his cheeks. Bending closer, he kissed Alan's forehead gently and ran a hand through the blond hair.

"I love you too, baby." he croaked. "I love you so much. I promise, I'll make everything alright again. Don't worry. Just got to sleep. Sweet dreams, my little man."

Wiping his eyes, Jeff took a moment to compose himself before turning back to his sons. Managing a weak smile, he began to walk towards them. He stopped, however, when the sound of a ringing cell phone cut through the silence. Jeff watched, slightly bemused, as Scott fumbled around in his pocket for the device, before pressing a button and putting it to his ear.

"Hello, Scott Tracy speaking." he said hurriedly. "Yes, I did, that's right...It's what?...You're sure?...That's - that's fantastic! Yes, thank you. Thank you so much...I'll be sure to do that...Yes, I understand...Alright...Yes...Goodnight, sir."

Ending the call, Scott turned to Jeff with a relieved and joyful expression upon his face.

"Dad, that was the weather station on the mainland." he explained animatedly. "I asked them to call me back with updates on the storm. Well, they've just told me some great news. Dad, the storms moving away from this area of the pacific! They said that it's now safe to try and fly a jet with an engine capacity like Tracy One's. Dad, we can leave for the hospital now!"

Jeff exhaled slowly and gazed up towards the ceiling, feeling the stress and tension begin to flow out of his body_. Thank you, God. I owe you one. Thank you so much. Please don't let it be too late. And please, don't let Gordon's fracture be too complicated. If anyone deserves to be punished, it's me. I've been such a fool for so long. And Lucy, I know you're watching over our boys. I'm sorry for letting you down before, but I promise you one thing - it will never happen again. Never._

Turning back to his sons, Jeff sighed and clenched his hands into fists.

"Alright, boys. Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

**_Will Jeff and the boys make it to the hospital? Will Gordon wake up before they arrive? And how will Jeff cope when his copper-haired son undergoes surgery? Can anyone keep our beloved Tracy patriarch from stressing out of his head? Find out on Friday!_**

**_Yes, my friends, you will have to wait until Friday. You must all try and be patient for me until then. I might be able to update sooner, but the situation with my grandma is far from over and I will be spending a lot of my free time with her. I hope you'll forgive me._**

**_Anyway, despite the slight delay, did you enjoy the chapter? PLEASE REVIEW and tell me all about it, yeah? You know I just want to improve it for you guys. Love you all!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	13. Chapter 12: Brookfield Hospital

**_Okay, next chapter has arrived! Woo-hoo! Big thanks to everybody for your great reviews, they made all the effort worth-while. Well, the next installment is finally here! I hope it's just as enjoyable to read as it was to write!_**

**_My grandma is now back at home and doing well, thank you for your kind thoughts and concerns. The police think they know the culprits' identities, but they haven't actually caught them yet. The CCTV evidence apparently matched the description my grandma gave, so hopefully they'll be apprehended soon._**

**_Anyway, this chapter is for all you faithful fanfictioners who continue to review each and every chapter so diligently! BIG hugs from me to you!_**

* * *

Virgil Tracy rubbed at his eyes, forcing himself to sit up a little straighter in his seat. He couldn't let himself fall asleep, he just couldn't. His brothers were relying on him to watch over them whilst Scott and John flew Tracy One to the hospital on the mainland. They had been airborne for almost fifteen minutes now, according to Virgil's watch, so there was still over forty-five minutes to go until they arrived. And, judging by how tired Virgil was becoming, it was going to be a very _long_ forty-five minutes.

Sighing, Virgil looked across to his left, where his father and Gordon were situated on the other side of the jet. Gordon, who had yet to regain consciousness, was laid flat on the fold-out bed that was normally attached to the wall. Several blankets covered the copper-haired boy's unmoving form, but Virgil could still see the prominent shape of the splint that surrounded Gordon's broken leg.

Suddenly, a cell-phone sang out into the tense silence of the jet. Jeff, who had been holding Gordon's hand in his, released it and stood to his feet, fumbling in his pocket for the device. Opening it, he put it to his ear and strode off down the isle between the two rows of seats, moving towards the back of the jet and sitting down in a seat at the far end of the compartment.

"Virge?"

Virgil's head snapped around, and he came face-to-face with a pair of sleepy blue eyes. His youngest brother, who had been snoozing contentedly in the seat beside him since they had taken off, appeared to have been awakened by the noise of the ringing cell phone.

"Hey, Allie." Virgil smiled, putting an arm around the smaller boy. "Are you okay?"

Alan frowned and looked around the jet with a confused expression upon his face. "Where are we?" he asked groggily.

"We're in Tracy One, Al." the older Tracy explained, remembering that Alan had been fast asleep when John had carried him on-board. "Scott and Johnny are flying us to the hospital so that the doctors can fix Gordy's leg."

Alan blinked up and him, latching onto his side and resting his head on Virgil's chest. "Can't _you_ make Gordy better, Virge?" he asked quietly. "Like you did with my knees?"

Virgil shook his head and sighed sadly. "I wish I could, Al. But Gordon is gonna need to have an operation to put the bones back in the right place. That can only be done at a hospital."

"Virge?" Alan murmured, his voice muffled slightly as he clung to his older brother's T-shirt.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I'm cold." Alan whimpered, shivering slightly. Virgil frowned in concern. Alan already had a warm blanket wrapped around him, and the temperature of the jet was certainly not cold. But his younger brotherly was shaking like a leaf, and this was very troubling to the twelve-year-old Tracy son. Leaning into the isle and craning his neck towards the rear of the plane, his looked over to where his father sat at the back of the compartment, still deep in conversation with whoever it was on the phone.

"Dad!" he called, trying and failing to keep the worry out of his voice. "I think there's something wrong with Alan."

Jeff, who had been rubbing his temples in order to alleviate the build-up of tension behind his eyes, immediately dropped his hand and shot to his feet. Striding back up towards the front of the jet, he spoke into his phone once again. "Hold on a second, Tom." he said quietly. "Something's up."

Coming to crouch down in front of his youngest child, Jeff frowned when he noticed the way that Alan shivered beneath the blankets. Lowering the phone slightly, he reached out a hand to gently rub Alan's arm, cocking his head slightly as he peered into the boy's half-hidden face. Two blue eyes turned towards him, the eyelids drooping lower as the pupils tried to focus upon him.

"Allie?" he inquired softly. "Allie, what's the matter?"

Alan shifted slightly so that his whole head was facing Jeff, and sniffed pitifully. "I'm cold, daddy." he whispered, tears pooling in his aqua-blue orbs.

"You're cold?" Jeff repeated worriedly, leaning forwards so that he now knelt on the floor in front of the chair. He put the phone to his ear once more, keeping his other hand on Alan's cheek and brushing the skin gently with his thumb. "Tom, Alan's complaining of feeling cold. But his skin isn't chilled, nor is it too warm. What d'you think's wrong with him?"

"Jeff, he could just be suffering from minor shock." came the calm reply. "He's been through a heck of a lot, and the exhaustion alone is probably enough to make him experience symptoms of mild hypothermia. He needs a lot of physical comfort and reassurance, kids at his age depend upon someone to cling to at a time like this."

Jeff nodded silently, noticing the way that Alan gripped onto Virgil's T-shirt as though it were his only lifeline. "So it's nothing serious, then?" he asked, still feeling the worry pulsing through his body. "This isn't the first signs of and illness or anything, is it?"

There was a slight pause at the other end of the line. "Jeff," Thomas said slowly. "He was out in that storm for a long period of time. There is a sizable chance that his health will be affected. But for now, just keep him warm. And more importantly, keep him calm. I'll give him a thorough check-over when I arrive at the hospital."

"Thanks, Tom." Jeff sighed, unable to rid himself of the crushing sense of dread within his chest. "I'll call you back if there's any change in Gordon's condition."

"Understood. Tom out."

Jeff smiled again, noting that his friend had also fallen back into the old habit of responding in the way they would have done had they been communicating to each other on the space station almost eighteen years ago. Glancing up at his middle-child, Jeff managed a weak smile.

"Virgil, could you go and sit with Gordon for a little while?" he asked. The brown-haired boy nodded quickly, carefully trying to detach himself from Alan's arms as he stood to his feet.

"No." Alan whimpered, strengthening his hold around Virgil's waist. Jeff stood up and pried Alan's hands off the older boy's T-shirt, allowing him to move away and take the seat on the other side of the jet beside his copper-haired sibling. Sitting down where Virgil had previously been seated, Jeff gathered his youngest son into his lap and pulled him close to his chest. Wrapping the blanket more tightly around the shivering child, he rested his chin atop Alan's blond mop of soft hair and rubbed the boy's back gently.

"Go back to sleep, baby." he murmured. "It's alright. Just close your eyes."

Alan's eyelids drooped closed over the weary blue orbs beneath, and his feeble shivering subsided slowly. Letting out a small sigh, the five-year-old took a loose hold of Jeff's shirtfront and rested his head against the crook of his father's arm. Jeff looked down at the sleeping form and smiled fondly, trying to ignore the nagging worry at the back of his mind. Alan would be alright, and so would Gordon. They'd be back at home again on the island before they knew it.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Gordon was finding it very difficult to open his eyes. They felt as though they had been glued shut, and the fact that he was utterly exhausted did not help matters. He could hear voices coming from somewhere on his right, the words indistinguishable from the pulsing in his ears. The voices were faint, but they were loud enough for Gordon to know to whom they belonged.

_That's - that's Dad and Virge. What are they doing here? Where - where am I? What's going on? And what on earth is that weird noise?_

He listened more intently, and indeed there was a familiar sound coming from all around him. But he couldn't quite recall where he had heard that noise before. Hoping for a clue as to where he was, Gordon decided that it would be beneficial to look at his surroundings. Wrenching his dry eyes open, he blinked in the bright light and screwed up his face into a grimace. Turning his head to the side, he spotted his father sitting in a seat beside Virgil. The two of them were talking quietly together, and Jeff held a sleeping Alan in his lap.

"Dad?" Gordon croaked out, not liking the fact that his voice sounded weak and hoarse. Jeff's head shot up towards him, and he immediately passed Alan over to Virgil, standing to his feet and striding quickly to Gordon's bedside.

"Hey, baby." his father murmured, leaning down towards him and brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "How're you feeling?"

Gordon blinked and swallowed, trying to get the dry feeling out of his mouth. Then he winced and shifted uncomfortably as a dull ache began to throb in his left leg. He grunted slightly and ceased all movement, deciding that it would be less painful to just remain still.

"M'leg hurts, dad." he slurred. Jeff nodded sympathetically and took his right hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know it does, Gordy." he murmured. "But it's gonna be alright. We'll be arriving at the hospital in less than five minutes. Then the doctors can give you a shot of something to make the pain go away, alright?"

Gordon frowned in sleepy confusion. "Hospital?" he repeated slowly, his tongue feeling thick and swollen in his dry mouth. "Why?"

Jeff's eyes flashed with concern, but he managed to keep his face calm and gentle. "Your leg is broken, Gordon." he stated gently. "We're taking you to the hospital so that the doctors can fix the bone up for you."

Gordon nodded slightly. _Oh yeah, the storm. But how did I get in here? And when? Last thing I remember, I was in the infirmary and Scotty and dad were talking to me. What happened? Did I fall asleep? And where's Allie?_

"Alan?" Gordon inquired softly, fighting against the fatigue to keep his eyelids from drooping.

"Alan's just over there, Gordon." Jeff replied softly, pointing somewhere to the right of Gordon's bed. "He's just fine. In fact, he's fast asleep."

Gordon sighed in relief, allowing his eyes to close once again. He felt a warm hand pat against his cheek gently. "Gordy? C'mon now, stay awake for me." Jeff encouraged. "Open your eyes, son."

"M'sleepy." Gordon slurred, his voice barely a whisper. He felt the fatigue wash over his aching body once more and he succumbed to the exhaustion, sighing in relief. As his father's worried calls began to grow faint, he loosened his hold on consciousness and allowed the dark waters to engulf him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Jeff ran alongside his son's gurney as it was wheeled swiftly off the runway and towards a large set of double doors. Tearing down the hospital corridors, his sons following close behind, he tried to make sense of the random medical jargon the doctors and nurses threw across to each other as they pushed the gurney into an emergency examination room.

"Mr. Tracy."

A young doctor stepped forward, putting his hands on Jeff's shoulders in order to halt him at the pair of swinging doors that led to the room. Jeff stood there, panting heavily, trying desperately to refrain from pushing past the doctor who stood so resolutely between him and his precious son.

"Mr. Tracy, I'm Dr. Wilson." he said softly. "Now, we received a telephone call from a friend of yours, a 'Dr. Thomas Palmar', and he has informed us of your son's condition, and all other details on his medical history that we will require. Therefore, all that remains for us to do is take a number of x-rays in order to determine the severity of the break. Tell me, Mr. Tracy, how long has your son been unconscious?"

Jeff raked a hand through his hair and puffed out a breath. "Since we found him just under two hours ago." he said gravely. "He's woken a up a couple of times, but never for more than a few minutes. Did Dr. Palmar explain to you how he sustained the injury?"

Dr. Wilson looked down at his electronic notepad and scrolled up the page. "Yes, it was during that terrible storm we experienced earlier this evening, was it not? Do you know how far he fell?"

Jeff frowned and rubbed the back of his neck "He must've fallen at least eight or nine feet." he stated. "And it appears as though he landed on his left side only."

The doctor nodded, entering the new information into the notepad. "Alright, we just need you to sign this form and allow the system to process your identity, then we can send your son up to surgery as soon as possible."

Jeff accepted the notepad and quickly used the touch-pen to sign his name. Sliding open the compartment beneath the screen, he pressed his thumb onto the smooth surface of the scanner and waited until the small icon that read '_Identification Verified' _popped up on the screen beside his signature. As he handed the pad back to the other man, his sons came running down the corridor towards them.

"How is he?" John demanded worriedly. "Has he regained conscious yet?"

Jeff shook his head glumly, glancing through the see-through doors towards where his copper-haired child lay unmoving upon the examination bed. Turning back towards the doctor, he inhaled deeply to calm his concerns.

"Can we go in and see him?" he asked, hopping from one foot to the other as he tried to rid himself of the nervous energy that was building up inside of him. Dr. Wilson glanced over his shoulder and into the room behind him.

"In a moment, Mr. Tracy." he replied gently. "I'll just go in and supervise the x-rays first. Could you wait here until I come out and fetch you? It is merely a health precaution."

"Of course." Jeff said, stepping back and coming to stand beside Virgil. The doctor nodded and strode back into the room, leaving the Tracy patriarch standing with his sons in the corridor. Jeff glanced across to his eldest, offering him a weak but reassuring smile. Scott smiled back shakily, shifting Alan into a more comfortable position on his hip.

"Do you want me to take him?" Jeff asked, noticing that Scott wore a slightly pained expression upon his face. Understandably, sprinting a great distance with a five-year-old in your arms was no easy task.

"It's alright, dad." Scott replied, readjusting his hold on Alan's legs and hugging the boy closer to him. "I've got him. You'll need your hands free when we go in to see Gordon."

"If you're sure." Jeff smiled, putting his arm around Virgil's shoulders and giving the younger boy hug. Virgil's head snapped up, and he gave a startled jump. Jeff ruffled the brown hair gently.

"Are you alright, Virgil?" he asked, noticing how blood-shot his son's eyes were. Virgil nodded sleepily, scrubbing at his eyes to get rid of the fatigue.

"I'm fine, dad." he murmured. "Just worried about Gordon, that's all."

"He'll be okay, Virge." John soothed, coming up on Virgil's other side and forming a three-way hug between them. "We'll be back home again in a couple of days, you'll see. Gordon's gonna be fine."

Jeff smiled at John's calming words, squeezing the blond-haired teenager on the shoulder affectionately. Then his head whipped back around towards the doors as they opened once more, and Dr. Wilson poked his head out. "Alright, we've taken the x-rays. You can all come in and see him for a few minutes, and then we'll need to take him up to surgery."

The Tracy family filed into the room, Jeff taking the lead and striding swiftly up to Gordon's bedside. Taking his son's right hand in his own, he squeezed gently, and was surprised when he felt the pressure returned. Feeling his hopes rising, he bent closer the the boy and ran his free hand down Gordon's cheek.

"Gordy? Baby, can you hear me?" he called. Gordon grunted and stirred, opening his eyes and blinking groggily up at his father.

"Dad? Wha's happenin'?" he slurred, a hint of fear in his voice as he gazed around at the many machines and numerous medical staff that surrounded the bed.

"You're in the hospital, kiddo." Jeff informed him. "The doctors are just having a look at the x-rays of your leg to see how best to fix it."

Dr. Wilson, who had been watching the exchange between father and son, leaned over the other side of the bed and smiled down at the copper-haired boy.

"Hi there, Gordon." he said slowly. "I'm Dr. Wilson. Can you tell me how you feel?"

Gordon grimaced. "M'leg hurts." he rasped. The older man nodded and murmured something to a nurse as she passed by. Turning back towards Gordon, he smiled once more.

"I'm going to give you a little shot of something to help with the pain, alright?" he asked, accepting the syringe off the nurse and removing the cap. "It's gonna make you really sleepy so that we can take you upstairs for your operation. You just keep looking at your dad, and it'll all be over in a second."

Jeff squeezed Gordon's hand a little tighter, cupping his cheek gently and preventing his son from turning his head in the direction of the doctor, who was inserting the needle into the boy's arm. Gordon winced and bit his lip, but did not try to resist the shot. As the doctor withdrew the needle, Jeff smiled down at his son and ran a hand through the tousled copper hair.

"Dad, am I gonna die?" Gordon asked sleepily, his voice wavering slightly. Jeff felt his heart clench at how frightened the ten-year-old sounded, and hurried to reassure him.

"No, baby, you're gonna be just fine." he promised. "Don't worry."

"The drug will pull him under in a minute or two." Dr. Wilson stated, directing his words at the three boys standing behind Jeff. "Say goodbye quickly, and we'll take him up to theatre."

John and Virgil stepped forward, each laying a hand upon Gordon's chest and smiling down at him shakily.

"Hey, buddy." John murmured. "You be good for the doctors, you here? No climbing on the tables or swinging from the ceiling lights, understood?"

"'kay, Johnny." Gordon mumbled. John smiled and leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on Gordon's forehead.

"I'll see you in a little while, kiddo." he said softly, before stepping back and allowing Virgil to lean over the younger boy.

"Hi, Gordy." he smiled. "Well, congratulations. You're the first person in our family to break their leg falling off a rock. Although I guess it wasn't such a good experience, huh? Never mind, the surgeons will be able to set the bone right. And besides, now I'll be able to draw all over your leg without getting into trouble. A month or so in a cast, and you'll be pranking Scotty again just like you did before. I'll even help you, if you like."

Gordon managed a sleepy grin, nodding ever so slightly. "Yeah, 'kay." he whispered.

Virgil gave him a gentle hug, being careful not to touch Gordon's left arm, and momentarily rested his forehead against Gordon's. As giving his brother a peck on the cheek would be _way_ too embarrassing, the two of them had always used this action when displaying affection in front of others. Smiling encouragingly, Virgil drew back and ruffled Gordon's hair.

"G'night, kiddo." he joked, grinning when Gordon frowned at him wearily. Despite the two-year age gap, he did not appreciate Virgil referring to him as a 'kiddo'. Only John, Jeff and Scott had that right.

As Scott stepped forward, he jostled Alan a little to wake him up. Leaning over the bedside, he gently caressed Gordon's hair with the hand that wasn't holding Alan up.

"Hey, buddy." he smiled. "You've been so brave. I'm really proud of you, you know that? So, so proud. I love you, Gordon."

"Love you...Scotty." came the exhausted reply, as Gordon's eyelids began to grow heavy. Scott smiled and straightened up slightly, patting Alan's cheek gently until the blue orbs were unveiled and gazed up at him.

"Allie, Gordy's gonna go have his operation now." Scott murmured. "Say goodbye, and you'll see him again when you wake up."

Perching the small boy on the edge of the bed, he held Alan securely so that he would not fall off. Carefully, Alan leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Gordon's cheek.

"S'okay, Gordy." he stated confidently, although his voice was low and slurred a little with exhaustion. "The doctors will make it all better, then you won't be hurting anymore. Virge says he can't make it better, so you've gotta let the doctors do it instead, 'kay?"

Gordon's eyes slid closed, and he sighed. "'kay, Allie." he whispered.

Alan nodded in sleepy satisfaction. "Okay. 'Night-'night, Gordy."

Then his head fell back against Scott's chest and he was sound asleep once more. Scott smiled slightly, scooping the small boy up in his arms and stepping back so that Jeff could once again stand at the bedside.

"Mr. Tracy, we need to take him upstairs now." Dr. Wilson stated. "I'll have nurse Carison escort you to the waiting room."

Jeff nodded, leaning forward and kissing Gordon's brow tenderly. "Be brave, little one." he whispered.

Then, straightening up, he followed the nurse out of the room and down the hall, his sons trailing out behind him. Walking down the corridor, he vaguely registered the startled looks and double-takes that other passers-by were sending his way. A porter, passing by with a trolley of supplies, nearly crashed into the wall as he stared in surprise at the sight of the world's most famous astronaut strolling down the corridor. But Jeff ignored all the looks he was getting. He was used to it, anyway. And his mind was on other matters.

The waiting room was a pleasant surprise, Jeff thought. It was a large, spacious area with a number of chairs and couches. A television was hung upon the wall on one side of the room, showing the news headlines. In the far corner, a small area of carpet had been sectioned off into a toddler's play area, the bright-coloured toys and games contrasting with the tense atmosphere of the hospital.

Despite Jeff's fears, he felt himself calm a little as he and his sons sat down upon once of the massive couches. Jeff sat in the middle, with Scott and Alan upon his right side, and Virgil upon his left. John sat on the other side of Virgil, keeping an arm about the younger boy's shoulders as they sat in silence for several minutes. Looking to his right, Jeff admired the way that Scott carefully supported Alan in his arms, resting him in a position that was surely highly uncomfortable for the older boy. Noticing Scott's pained facial expression, Jeff leaned towards him and gently scooped Alan up in his arms.

"You're arms are about to drop off, Scott." he murmured softly. "I'll hold him for a while."

Alan grunted slightly, shifting in Jeff's lap and gazing up at him through blood-shot eyes. "Daddy?" he slurred.

"Shh, go back to sleep, baby." Jeff soothed. "I've got you."

Alan whimpered slightly and buried his head in the crook of Jeff's arm. "Hurts." he croaked, before promptly falling back into the land of dreams. Jeff looked down at him in concern.

"What hurts?" he asked worriedly, but Alan was already fast asleep, and did not answer him.

"His knees." Virgil offered, from where he sat with his head pillowed on John's shoulder. "They probably still smart pretty bad from earlier on."

Jeff nodded and swallowed. Yes, that was probably it. He sighed and gazed back down at the cherubic face of his youngest son, his eyes scanning lovingly over the soft features. He was being stupid. Alan would be fine. Alan was safe in his arms, nothing could happen to him.

But, however much he tried, he could not shake the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that something was terribly wrong with his baby.

* * *

**_Is Jeff just being paranoid, or is something bad going to happen to our youngest Tracy? Will Gordon's operation go through smoothly, or will there be complications? And how is Dr. Palmar faring as he flied across the skies in an attempt to reach the hospital in order to comfort his friend_****_? Find out on Sunday!_**

**_Ta-daa! How was that? I hope you enjoyed reading it. Stay tuned for another dose of family fluff and fatherly tears on Sunday! Oh, and PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your feedback/concrit/requests/general comments. They really help to improve my writing._**

**_Best wishes!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	14. Chapter 13: Old Friends, New Threats

**_Hiya guys!_**

**_Okay, big apologies for not updating like I had planned to do. I'm really sick at the moment, and I've spent the past five days puking my guts up and trying to stop my head from exploding. It hasn't been so great. Blood tests and a ton of shots, plus the fact that I've missed a whole week of college and two dance classes, means that I am NOT a happy bunny right now. Ah well, guess I'll just have to grin and bear it. Sulking won't make me any better. Okay, here goes . . . 'GRINS!' That's more like it._**

**_And believe me, when I'm too sick to update my story, I'm REALLY sick. But now I actually have the energy to sit up in bed and keep my eyes open for longer than five minutes, so I've managed to produce this next chapter just for you! I admit - 'dramatic sigh' - it's been a struggle to put it off for this long, but you can't type if you can't bloomin' well see the words on the screen, can you? Well, I could try, but you wouldn't like the chapter if I posted it in that state. You still might not like this chapter, in fact, but I can't blame that on not being able to focus properly now that I can._**

**_Sorry, I'm waffling. Do that a lot when I'm sick. I'm also on lots of pain meds so I'm kinda hopping in between hyper and dead at the moment. I hope that doesn't show up in my writing. I'll kill my beta-brothers if it does._**

**_Thank you for all your great reviews, they made me feel heaps better. So, as a reward, this chapter is quite long. _**

**_Now please, scroll down and indulge yourselves!_**

* * *

Thomas Palmar pushed the throttle down a little more, increasing the speed of his private jet as he tapped his foot impatiently upon the floor of the cockpit. Letting out a sigh of frustration, he glanced down at his watch.

_It's nearly 1:00am. That means it's been over forty-five minutes since Gordon went into surgery. I wonder how Jeff is holding up. He hasn't been this stressed-out in years. In fact, not since Alan was born. Man, that was a memorable occasion. Jeff drank nine cups of coffee that evening. Nine! He was so nervous, I was actually considering giving him a mild sedative so that he wouldn't make himself sick._

Thomas chuckled to himself at the memory, running a hand through his dark brown hair and smiling. He'd missed his friend greatly whilst he'd been working his rotation on-board the space station. Tele-com conversations just weren't the same. And what hurt Thomas the most was the fact that he hadn't been there for Jeff after the accident. Nor had he been able to say goodbye to Lucy. He had chosen to work a double rotation, as he had planned to quit NASA right after he returned to earth. This had meant that his spell of duty had been lengthened to fourteen months and, being the chief medical officer, he hadn't been able to leave the station before his rotation had ended.

But now it was over, and he was no longer restricted to following the set times of duty rotations. He'd been thinking long and hard over the past few weeks about what he was going to do with his future now that he no longer had to travel up to the station every seven months. Having worked with NASA's medical equipment, he was qualified to take up whatever position he wished within any hospital or doctor's practice. In fact, he had already received a number of requests from different medical directors, all of which had told him on no uncertain grounds that he was the only man they wanted for the job. But Thomas hadn't taken any particular interest in their propositions, and there was one very good reason for this. They wanted him to be lecturer.

It wasn't that he had no patience. On the contrary, Jeff had often remarked that he must have been some sort of science experiment gone wrong, as it seemed to take an eternity to work him into a temper. No, he had all the patience in the world. He just found lectures so _boring_. Consequently, the idea of lecturing medical students day-in, day-out did not appeal to Thomas in the slightest. He'd been given the gift of medicine, and he wanted to use it. Not just talk about it.

He had been working shifts on-board the space station for nearly sixteen years now, and with a mere crew of eighty to take care of, his skills had not always been required. Therefore, during his many free hours, he had written a series of books on medicine. His first book, which had been published soon after John's birth, had been entitled 'Medicine on the Moon', and had included a selection of tales about his experience on-board the station. He had excluded all the tales about himself and Jeff, as his friend had already become somewhat of a celebrity, and he knew that the media would do anything to get their hands on a few more details about the - at that time - _millionaire's_ former life. Jeff had appreciated the gesture, and their friendship had strengthened all the more.

Thomas smiled, chuckling again as memories of their time together flashed across his mind. Although Jeff had only done the occasional 30-day rotation after Scott had been born, the two of them had still been inseparable. When Jeff hadn't been on-board the station, they had called each other at least once a week to chat about life in general and, of course, the new-born Tracy babies. It had made him laugh every time Jeff had held the mouth-piece out to one of his sons so that Thomas could hear them 'talking'.

Thomas' smile faltered a little as he recalled how distant Jeff had become over the past year. _I should never had agreed to that double rotation. Jeff still hasn't recovered from Lucy's death. I understand how devastating it was for him, and even I still feel the pain over losing her, but he's changed so much. I haven't heard him laugh since the accident. Occasionally, when we talk, he manages a smile or two but - but it's just not the same. And he's working far too hard. Even during our weekly conversations, he would be 'just finishing off a report' or something.__ Man, sometimes I really wanted to shake him and tell him to snap out of it! He's gonna kill himself if he keeps this up. And I don't know how it's affecting the kids. I haven't spoken to any of them in months. I should have, they're as good as nephews to me._

Thomas gave a startled jump when his comm-panel began to flash, signalling that he was receiving a call. Pressing a button, he excepted the voice-only call and cleared his throat.

"Thomas Palmar speaking, how may I help you?" he said, choosing to remain formal in case he did not know the caller. However, he did.

"Tom, it's Jeff." said a familiar voice. The doctor winced at how stressed Jeff sounded.

"Hey, pal." he said casually, adopting his most calming tones in an attempt to de-stress his friend. "How're you holding up?"

He heard Jeff let out his breath sharply. "I'm fine." came the mumbled reply. Thomas snorted.

"Jeff, don't even _try_ to lie to me." he smiled, although he wished that he were already at the hospital so that he could offer Jeff his support and comfort. "As I recall, you told me you were 'fine' right before you collapsed on-board the station."

To his surprise, Jeff gave a weak chuckle. "Of course I recall the incident." he murmured, his voice gaining a little strength. "I was the one who had needles stuck into him for the next forty-eight hours, remember?"

Thomas laughed softly, but he also shuddered as he remembered just how serious the situation had been at the time. "You were lucky you didn't end up in a coma, Jeff. Veridean Fever is nothing to laugh about."

"Actually, Matt told me that I found quite a lot to laugh about when I was delirious with the fever." Jeff stated, and Thomas could here the smile in his voice. "He even had me convinced that he'd taped it, and was going to send a copy to NASA headquarters. When I found out he was joking, I could have strangled him."

"Except you didn't." Thomas interjected, laughing at the memory. "Because I had you strapped to the bio-bed at the time."

Jeff huffed moodily over the line, and Thomas smiled delightedly. He hadn't shared a playful banter with his friend in a long time.

"Jeff, how are you feeling?" he persisted. "And I want the truth."

There was a short silence at the other end of the line, broken only by the sound of Jeff's unsteady breathing patterns. Then he heard the other man sigh in resignation, and Thomas could picture Jeff running a hand through his hair - which happened to be a habit they both shared whenever they were stressed or frustrated.

"Tom, I-" Jeff broke off, sighing again. "I'm an idiot." he stated softly.

"What?!" Thomas asked, blinking in surprise. This hadn't exactly been the answer he was expecting.

"I am _such_ an idiot." Jeff repeated, seemingly more to himself than to Thomas. "I should have realised sooner."

"Realised what, Jeff?" the doctor inquired, feeling slightly worried at Jeff's sudden change in character. "What are you talking about?"

"Tom, why didn't I notice this before now?" Jeff babbled, sounding distraught and angry. "Am I really that selfish? How could I have let this happen?!"

"Jeff!" Thomas shouted, cutting off his friend's rant. "Jeff, calm down. Take another deep breath. You're not making any sense."

"I'm sorry." Jeff murmured after a few moments had passed. "It's just, I can't expl-"

He stopped abruptly as another voice called out "_Mr. Tracy?"_. Thomas heard Jeff inhale sharply.

"Tom, it's the doctor. This must be about Gordon." the other man said hurriedly. "Can I call you back in ten minutes?"

"No need, Jeff." Thomas stated, glancing down at the panel and noticing his current position. "My ETA is just under fifteen minutes. I'll come and find you when I arrive. Just try to stay calm, alright?"

Jeff gave a small, nervous chuckle. "That's easier said than done. Thanks, Tom. Jeff out."

The call ended, and Thomas sighed deeply, a worried frown playing across his face._ Something is really stressing him out, and it's not just Gordon's broken leg. Jeff and I are going to have a nice, long chat when I arrive at the hospital. Man, I wish I could gotten to the hospital sooner. I've already let Jeff down once before; I wasn't here on earth for him when Lucy died. I should have just scrapped protocol after my first rotation ended, and handed in my resignation right then and there._

Gripping the throttle a little harder, he increased his speed to maximum, ignoring the warning voice coming from his more rational side. _Screw the engines, this piece of metal is due for a trip to the scrapyard, anyway. It's far too slow. Huh, Jeff would call me a speed junky if he heard that, but that's only because Tracy One is faster than this old girl. I only keep this tin can for sentimental reasons. It was the very first jet that I built with Jeff in between rotations. I loved this baby as much as he did a few years ago, but now? I think she's on her last legs._

Sighing once more, he began his decent, spotting the bright lights of the large hospital in the distance. _Hold on Jeff, just hold on. Please try to keep it together until I arrive. And if I have to sedate you, so be it._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Jeff swallowed as he snapped the phone shut, watching as the doctor came over and sat down on a chair in front of the couch where he and his sons were seated. He felt Scott tense beside him, and looked across to see his eldest son gripping onto the arm of the couch so firmly that his knuckles began to turn white. Turning back to the doctor before him, he cleared his throat.

"How is he?" Jeff asked, barely able to keep his voice steady. The doctor smiled.

"Your son will be fine, Mr. Tracy." he said calmly. "His operation was a success, and the bone in his leg has been re-aligned correctly. He also sustained a mild hairline fracture of his left humorous, so we've put his arm in a sling for the time being. It's not serious enough to require a cast, but it's best to keep it immobile for a week or so, just to give it chance to heal."

"Can we go see him?" asked John, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken Virgil, who was sleeping soundly with his head resting on John's shoulder.

"Of course." the doctor smiled. "We've moved him to a private room, so hopefully you won't get bothered by the press. If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you up there now."

"Thank you." Jeff said gratefully. He looped one of his arms under Alan's legs and stood to his feet, cradling the sleeping boy gently. Turning back towards the couch, he watched as Scott scooted along until he was sitting beside Virgil.

"Virge?" the teenager said softly, giving the younger boy's shoulder a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up."

Virgil grunted and stirred, opening his eyes and gazing up at Scott sleepily. Then his honey-burnt orbs flashed in concern, and he sat up sharply.

"Is Gordon alright?" he demanded worriedly, a frown tugging at his brow. Scott smiled and stood up, pulling Virgil to his feet behind him.

"Gordon's fine, Virge." he assured his younger brother. "The doctor is just gonna show us to his room."

Virgil sighed in relief, brushing the sleep from his eyes and rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Sorry for fallin' asleep." he mumbled. Jeff smiled at him kindly.

"There's no need to apologise, Virge, nobody was expecting you to be able to stay awake for so long." he stated fondly, beginning to follow the doctor out of the room and into the corridor. "It's passed one o'clock already, you know. You should have been in bed over four hours ago."

Virgil yawned wearily and nodded, leaning against Scott's side as the older boy wrapped an arm about his shoulders. Walking behind their father, the Tracy sons quickly followed the doctor along a passageway and up a flight of stairs. Striding swiftly down another corridor, they came to a halt outside a pair of sliding doors.

"This will be your son's room for the duration of his stay, Mr. Tracy." the doctor stated calmly. "I'll make sure you are each provided with a door-key before my shift is over."

Taking an identity badge out of his pocket, he inserted it into a slot on the wall beside the doors. After a low '_beep'_ rang out, he removed the card and pressed the button beside the slot, causing the doors to '_swish'_ open. Jeff swallowed his nerves and stepped into the room after the doctor, feeling his heart thudding violently in his chest. However, the sight he beheld then caused his heart to skip a beat.

Gordon lay unmoving upon the bed, his copper hair tousled and standing up at all angles. The sling that supported his left arm lay on top of the blankets, and there was a prominent lump at the end of the bed where his leg lay resting upon a pillow. But it was not the seriousness of the situation that caused Jeff's breath to become caught in his chest. No, it was the fact that it all looked so similar to how it had been thirteen months ago. Gordon, suffering from mild hypothermia and exhaustion, asleep in a hospital bed alongside his four brothers, whilst Lucy fought for her life up in theatre.

Jeff shuddered at the memory. _I nearly lost them all then, and I nearly lost two of them again today. How could I have let this happen? It was my duty, as a father, to protect and care for each one of them. But I let them down. I let them all down._

Stepping up to the bedside and gently depositing Alan in one of the nearby chairs, Jeff knelt down and leaned over his copper-haired child, smoothing the unruly locks into a more controlled style.

"Hi, Gordy." he murmured softly, his fingers tracing the boy's cheekbone lovingly. "It's alright, I'm here now. Daddy's here."

Scott, John and Virgil came to crouch down on the opposite side of the bed, placing comforting hands on their little brothers chest.

"Mr. Tracy?" the doctor said. When Jeff turned towards him, he smiled kindly. "The anaesthetic will where off in an hour or so, but he'll be pretty lethargic for a long while after that. We've also given him a high dose of painkillers, so he may simply want to sleep for the next twelve hours or so. The IV line he's attached to at the moment is supplying him with a slow course of antibiotics, and the monitors you see on the walls and above the bed are merely for observational purposes."

"Antibiotics?" Jeff questioned. "What's wrong, is he likely to catch an infection?"

"With an oblique fracture, there is always a risk of substances in the bone marrow having leaked out into the bloodstream, and this can cause problems if left untreated." the other man explained gently. "The antibiotics will prevent this from occurring, so we don't take any chances and give them to all patients who have suffered similar injuries. However, after the two-day course of antibiotics had finished, Gordon will be ready to return home."

Jeff let out a relieved sigh, feeling some of the tension leave his muscles. _Oh, thank God. He's going to be alright. We're all going to be alright now. I'll make sure of it. _

"I need to go and check on a few more of my patients, Mr. Tracy." the doctor stated softly. "I'll be back in about half an hour. If you need anything, just press the call button on the panel beside the bed there, and one of the nurses will attend to you. Is that alright?"

"Yes, thanks doc." Jeff murmured, his gaze still fixed upon the still form in front of him. As the the doors '_swished'_ shut behind the doctor, Jeff looked up at his other sons and smiled at the sight he beheld. Virgil, who had fallen asleep with his head and shoulders pillowed on Scott's chest, was now humming ever so softly as he snoozed. John was gazing at his two brothers with an expression of tender adoration upon his face, whilst he stroked Gordon's chest with his free hand.

Smiling at the sight, Jeff watched his children in silence for several minutes, basking in the warm feeling that bubbled up inside of him. Unzipping his jacket, he stood up long enough to lay it over the sleeping form of his youngest son, who sat in the chair a few metres away from the bed, before returning his attention to Gordon's still form. Sighing, he placed another chair at the bedside and ran his hand through Gordon's hair, watching the steady rise and fall of the boy's chest with each gentle breath.

John covered his mouth as he let out a jaw-splitting yawn, and Jeff frowned a little as he looked down at his watch and realised just how late it was. _The boys need to go and get some rest. They all look exhausted. Well, Scott and John are doing their very best to hide it, but it's still rather obvious. I don't think I'll get any arguments out of Virgil, he's already fast asleep. But the older two? I don't think they're going to be too happy about leaving Gordon._

Just then, the doors '_swished'_ open, and a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

"Hiya Jeff, long time no see, right?"

"Tom!" Jeff exclaimed. He shot to his feet and broke into a grin, striding across the room and pulling the other man into a crushing embrace. Clapping his old friend on the back, he pulled away as the two of them grasped each other's forearms.

"Boy am I glad to see you, pal." the Tracy patriarch stated sincerely. Thomas chuckled softly and nodded in agrement, before looking further into the room over Jeff's shoulder and frowning slightly at the pale figure upon the bed. Jeff followed his friend's gaze and his face grew serious and worried once more. Upon seeing this, Thomas gripped Jeff's arms more firmly.

"Listen to me, Jeff." he said, keeping his voice low and steady. "Gordon is going to be perfectly alright. He's at the hospital and out of surgery. There's nothing to worry about, you hear? Stop stressing before you have an aneurysm. Everything's fine."

"Yeah, I guess your right." Jeff mumbled, exhaling slowly. Then he turned back around slightly and managed a small smile. "Come and say hi to the boys."

Striding passed Jeff and into the room, Thomas stopped short as his eyes fell upon the three figures huddled together at the bedside. Jeff stifled a laugh as his old friend blinked in shock at his sons, realising that they must have changed a lot in the past fourteen months. Mindful of the sleeping boy between them, John and Scott both raised a hand and waved at the older man, flashing him identical Tracy grins.

"Hey, Dr. Palmar." John said casually. "How was your rotation?"

Managing to overcome his initial surprise, Thomas smiled at the star-loving Tracy. "Good thanks, John." he replied, being sure to keep his voice low so as not to awaken Virgil. "I even managed to get another couple of books written during my spare time."

John's eyes lit up. "Anything I'd be interested in?" he asked.

Thomas laughed slightly. "Oh, I think one of them might appeal to your tastes." he said evasively. "And maybe even to your sense of humour."

"John doesn't have a sense of humour." Scott stated, grinning when John shot a mock-glare at him. "At least not when the prank's on him."

"Yeah, well I don't see _you _laughing hysterically when a bucket of water falls on your head." John countered defiantly. Scott just smiled at him and patted his arm over Virgil's head. Turning back towards the older man, he smiled.

"So why the shocked face when you first saw us, sir?" he inquired. Thomas grimaced slightly.

"Okay, Scott, two things." he began. Holding his index finger, he smiled and looked at both of the teenagers. "One; please don't call me 'sir'. Please? I'm fine with formality and all that jazz, but 'sir' just makes me sound like - like-" he closed his eyes and shuddered dramatically. "Like a lecturer."

Jeff laughed softly at the remark, shaking his head and moving back over to his chair at the bedside. Scott and Gordon raised their eyebrows at the doctor's comment, but decided to refrain from questioning it. Thomas nodded emphatically, before raising his middle finger to join his index.

"And two; Scotty, I'm the doctor who helped to bring you into this world." he stated with a small smile. "And therefore, when I compare your six-foot-whatever-it-is-now to that gorgeous little baby that I helped Jeff to burp and feed for the first six months, I'm allowed to wear a 'shocked face' when I see you. Oky-dokey?"

Scott, who had turned a deep shade of red at Thomas' cheerful description of his infancy, merely nodded his head and averted his eyes. John looked at his older brother with an expression of barely-suppressed glee on his face.

"Aaw, Scott, you were 'gorgeous' once. What happened to make you look - well - like that." he asked, pretending not to notice the daggers that Scott was now glaring in his direction. Turning back to the doctor, he smiled. "Was he really that 'gorgeous', sir?"

Thomas grinned. "He certainly was, Johnny." he stated, before adding quietly. "And please don't call me 'sir'."

"What were his cutest features, in your opinion?" John continued, clearly enjoying the power he now held over his older brother.

The doctor pretended to look thoughtful, whilst Jeff chuckled softly at the bedside and tried to pretend that he wasn't listening so as not to cause further embarrassment to his eldest child.

"Well," said Thomas. "He had this cute little button nose, that you constantly wanted to kiss. He had this way of gurgling that was so adorable you just had to laugh whenever he started making noises. And he had these sweet little ears that you could just-"

"Okay, okay, stop! Please!" Scott begged, looking thoroughly disgruntled. Jeff couldn't contain his laughter any more, and Scott shot a moody pout towards him as he clutched his knees and gasped for breath. Before, of course, realising that this had been the first time he had heard his father laugh like this since their mother's death. Then Scott, too, began to laugh, and soon the whole room was filled with the cheerful and refreshing sound. A little of the tension seemed to ebb away from within each of the room's occupants.

"Scott?"

The eldest Tracy son looked down to where Virgil sat looking up at him from somewhere around his chest, and cringed as he realised that their laughter must have woken him up. Virgil's gaze shifted slightly, and he sat up a little as his eyes landed upon Thomas.

"Hiya, Virge." the doctor grinned. "It's been a while, huh kid?"

"Hi, Dr. Palmar." Virgil smiled, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He stretched slightly and looked around. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not too long, kiddo." Scott said evasively, as he hadn't really been keeping track of the time during recent events.

"I thought not." Virgil muttered wearily, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckled as he tried to fight against the pull of fatigue on his body. "M'still exhausted."

Jeff, who had been regarding Virgil's actions, came to a decision. Standing up, he came to crouch down beside Thomas in front of his three older children. "Boys, I think it's time you all went to bed." he stated. "We've established that Gordon's gonna be just fine, so there's no need to force yourselves into staying awake for hours. You'll just end up making yourselves sick."

"But-" Scott began to protest, clearly wishing to watch over his younger brother. Jeff shook his head and held up a hand.

"You can come right back here and see him after you've had some sleep." he said. When Scott still looked a little hesitant, Thomas stepped in.

"Scott, you're dad's right." he persisted. "The last thing we want is for you boys to go making yourselves unwell on top of everything else that's already happened. Now c'mon, let's get you guys a couple of rooms in the hotel across the road, okay?"

Scott finally admitted defeat and nodded his head. Standing up, Thomas smiled and tuned towards Jeff. "I'll take the boys over to the hotel and get them settled. You stay here with Gordon."

"Dad, what about Alan, didn't you want to make sure he was okay?" Virgil inquired softly. Jeff mentally slapped himself for forgetting that his youngest son had yet to be checked over by a doctor. Luckily, Thomas already had this problem figured out.

"Alan can stay here with your dad and Gordon whilst I get you guys booked into the hotel." he said confidently. "Then I'll stop off at my jet on the way back here and grab my kit. I'll take Alan over to join you at the hotel once I've finished checking him over, okay?"

The boys nodded reluctantly, and smiled in relief. Helping Virgil to his feet, he gave him a tight hug and ruffled his brown locks. Squeezing both John and Scott on the shoulder and smiling at them lovingly, he gave them a gentle shove in the direction of the door.

"G'night, boys. Sleep well." he said fondly. Thomas smiled in his direction, before turning around and walking towards the door. As he was about to step out into the corridor, he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Don't go having a nervous breakdown whilst I'm gone, you hear?" he grinned. Jeff chuckled slightly and saluted.

"Yes, sir."

Thomas sighed in mock-exasperation. "_Don't_ call me 'sir'! How many times do I have to tell people? They _never_ listen! Am I talking to myself? Yes, well now I am, but that still doesn't mean that..."

As Thomas' voice faded away down the corridor, the doors slid closed once more and Jeff moved back over towards his chair. He paused momentarily and glanced at his jacket, which was now on the floor beside Alan's chair. Leaning down, he picked it up and gently laid it over the sleeping boy. Then he sat down next to Gordon and took up the boy's hand once more, his eyes returning to the slow rise and fall of his chest. Suddenly, a soft '_flump'_ caused him to look behind him at his youngest child. He smiled slightly when he saw that the jacket had slipped off of the boy's small frame again.

Standing up, he replaced the jacket over Alan's curled-up legs, arms and chest. However, no sooner had he sat back down in his own chair than the gentle _'flump'_ sounded for the second time. Frowning slightly, he turned to see the jacket back on the floor where it had been only seconds earlier. Smiling a little more and shaking his head, Jeff stood up and draped the jacket over Alan's body once more. Stepping back a few paces, he watched with an affectionate smirk as Alan's little face twitched slightly and he let out a tiny grunt. Shifting in his position on the chair, he grimaced a little, frowned, then feebly kicked the jacket off of his body and onto the floor.

Jeff's smile faltered somewhat as he looked more intently at his youngest child's face. Although it appeared be peaceful once more, Jeff couldn't help but notice a light pink flush to his cheeks. Crouching down in front of the chair, he put the back of his hand to Alan's cheek, gasping at the warmth that he felt burning across the soft skin. Raising it to the boy's forehead, he found the same heat radiating in that area, too, and felt his heartbeat begin to quicken for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

"Alan?" he called, feeling an urgent need to see his son looking a little more responsive than he did at present. "Alan, time to wake up."

To his immense relief, weary blue eyes were unveiled and gazed up at him in confusion. "Daddy?"

Jeff scooped him up and went to sit back on the chair beside Gordon's bed, wanting to remain as close to his sons as possible. Settling Alan on his lap, he rubbed the boy's arm gently.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. Alan rubbed his eyes and flopped against Jeff's chest exhaustively, giving a feeble nod. "You're sure?" Jeff pressed. "You feel a little warm. Does anything hurt?"

Alan hesitated a little, before snuggling deeper into Jeff's side and sniffing. Jeff felt the worry increasing as Alan began to shiver slightly.

"Alan, what's wrong?" he asked softly, cupping the hot cheek in one hand and turning Alan's face up to look at him. "Please tell me what's wrong, baby. Please."

"M'cold." Alan murmured. "It hurts."

"What hurts, Allie?" Jeff was now becoming more concerned by the second as his son's blue eyes filled with huge tears. "Tell daddy where it hurts."

"Legs hurt." Alan whimpered. Jeff felt a little of the panic die down.

"Your knees hurt? Yeah, they're gonna hurt for a little while, baby, but they'll get better." Jeff assured him.

Alan shook his head weakly. "No, not my knees." he croaked. "My legs, Daddy. And my head is hurting real bad. And - and my arms hurt."

"They what?" Jeff was now thoroughly confused. Had Alan sustained injuries that they had not noticed earlier? Why hadn't he spotted them before whilst he'd been changing Alan into the dry clothes?

"Daddy?" Alan whimpered miserably. "I don't feel so good."

Jeff tried to calm himself down as he cuddled the boy a little closer. _I hope Tom gets back here soon. Alan's definitely running a fever, and I don't like the fact that he's in pain. Oh God, please don't let this be anything serious. Don't do this to him, he's already been through so much. I can't lose him, too. I've only just got him back in my arms again._

Jeff shook himself mentally. He was thinking too far ahead, he was being too pessimistic, and he was panicking. Again. He needed to calm down before he totally lost it. He could feel that his body was already weary from the emotions and physical strain that the passed four-and-a-half hours had caused. He didn't know how much more of the stress he could take.

_Don't be daft, Jeff. You'll take as much as you have to. It's your responsibility as their father to make sure that everything is set straight and that the boys are all safe and sound and back at home as soon as possible._

Looking down, Jeff noticed that Alan had fallen back to sleep in his arms. Allowing a small smile to spread onto his lips, he brushed a stray lock of blond hair from the innocent face of his child, planting a loving kiss on the warm, flushed skin and closing his eyes.

_Please, Tom, get back here soon and tell me that my baby is gonna be alright..._

* * *

**_What will Tom's diagnosis be? Will he be able to calm Jeff long enough to have that 'nice long chat' he referred to? And will Gordon awaken from his slumber in the next chapter? Find out next time!_**

**_Okay pals, that's all for today. Boy am I tired. I'm gonna go lie down and die for another 24 hours, so I doubt the next chapter will posted before Sunday. Not unless I'm suddenly cured by tomorrow ('prays desperately for affirmative'). 'sigh' Oh well, guess you'll have to be patient and wait. You've been great this week though, not one complaint about late updates! I was impressed with you guys, you're usually like a hungry baby when it comes to updates (not the fact that you act like babies, but the fact that babies make a lot of ruckus when they want something)._**

**_Lol, I hoped you liked it. PLEASE REVIEW with all yor feedback, and I'll try and update as soon as is physically/mentally/generally possible, 'kay? Cool. Love you all, and see you later!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	15. Chapter 14: Panic and Promises

**_Grr, stupid virus! I've spent the last couple of days getting jabbed with needles, which is why this chapter has been posted a little later than expected. Sorry. Hey, don't blame me, blame the virus! I didn't exactly ask for this! Okay, I'm ranting, I'm sorry. It doesn't really matter now, because I'm here and that's what counts. So yeah, onwards and upwards..._**

**_Thanks for all your great reviews, they are probably the only reason why I am still so alive at the moment. So here, for your own pleasure and enjoyment, is the next chapter of my story. Enjoy!_**

* * *

Scott sifted through his overnight bag, looking for his pyjamas. Upon finding them, he grabbed his wash-things and pulled his tired and aching body into a standing position. Stretching the stiffness out of his weary muscles, he walked across the spacious bedroom area and into the bathroom.

After he had taken a quick shower and changed into the pyjamas, he felt a whole lot better. But he was also far more exhausted than he had been before. Brushing his teeth, he tried to keep his eyes open as he swayed slightly with fatigue, gripping onto the edge of the sink in order to prevent himself from falling over. Rinsing out his mouth, he scrubbed his face and hair dry, hanging the towel around his neck and turning back towards the bathroom door. Staggering into the bedroom, he sat down on the edge of the nearest bed and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Scott?"

The brown-haired Tracy looked up towards the door and smiled at the man who stood there.

"Hey, Dr. Palmar." he replied. "Did the guys settle down okay?"

Thomas laughed slightly as he walked into the room, closing the door silently behind him. He strolled up towards where Scott sat and perched casually on the edge of the other bed, facing the teenager. "Virgil was out before his head even hit the pillow, and John was just going to bed when I left. They're both fine."

Scott smiled in relief. "Good."

"So how are you, Scott?" the older man asked, his eyes searching Scott's face. "It's been over six months since we last talked."

Scott cringed slightly. In truth, he felt a little guilty over having not called the old family friend for so long. But the transmissions to space had to be done using the high-tech communications system that his father owned on the computer in his office. The only way to gain access to it would have been through asking their father's permission. And Jeff had always been so _busy_, Scott had never known when was the right time to ask.

"I'm okay, sir." Scott replied hesitantly, smirking slightly at the mock-glare that Thomas sent his way.

"Alright, enough of the 'sir', if you don't mind." the doctor smiled. "Why don't you try calling me 'Tom', hmm? I haven't had to be your doctor in over a year, not since I had to clean up your arm after that little run-in you had with the fence when I was at your old house, a week before I went up to do my double rotation. Man, the panicked look on your dad's face was hilarious. Especially as both you and your mom took it all so calmly. Anyway, my point is that 'Dr. Palmar' doesn't sound quite right coming from you now that you're-"

The doctor blinked suddenly, doing a double-take. "Heavens above, you're sixteen now! When the heck did I get so _old_? That's appalling!"

Scott couldn't help it, and burst out laughing at the look of utter horror upon the doctor's face. Thomas frowned at him, wearing an expression of mock-hurt.

"Scott, this is no laughing matter." he whined pathetically. "I've just had a very serious reality check here! If you're sixteen, do you realise what this implies? It implies that I'm _old_, Scotty! Me! Old!"

Scott just clutched at his sides and roared with laughter, the tears flowing freely from his eyes. Thomas sighed in frustration and crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head in disgust.

"Imagine that." he murmured softly. "My little fire-cracker is practically an adult. And I'm almost middle-aged. Yuk."

Scott stopped laughing momentarily and sat up, cocking his head to the side questioningly. "You're little what? Who's a cracker?"

Thomas smiled. "When you were six, a few weeks before your mom gave birth to Gordon, you were in one of the garages with your dad and myself, 'helping' us to build my jet. Well, one morning you got a little bored at 'work' and decided to wreak havoc by setting off a few miniature fire-crackers in the corner of the garage. Lord knows where you got the fire-crackers from, but you always were the inventive one when you were little. You seemed to have this prank all planned out. Except it back-fired on you and the fuses went off early, leaving _you _with a couple of minor burns on your hands and you're dad with one hell of a panic-attack to recover from. I nicknamed you 'fire-cracker' after that day, and your dad called you-"

"Sparky." Scott finished, his voice barely a whisper as a fond smile crept over his face. "So that's why he's always called me that. He would never tell me."

Thomas chuckled softly. "Probably still too traumatized, Scott. Honestly, you should have seen him. You would have thought that something had killed you the way that he kept babbling on about it to your mom. She, of course, was worried about you, but she couldn't help but laugh at the way your dad was acting. After all, he was supposed to be 'Jeff Tracy, Action Man extraordinaire'."

Scott snorted. "Dad as an action man? Kids would need therapy if they made a model of him."

Dr. Palmar laughed so hard that he nearly fell off the bed, smacking his thighs with his hands as he gasped for breath. "Oh Scott." he panted, after calming down enough to form words. "I've missed you, kiddo."

"Yeah, me too, sir." Scott murmured, suddenly finding that his eyes were becoming heavy. It was late, and his teenage body needed rest.

"What did I say about the whole 'sir' thing, Scotty?" Thomas sighed, shaking his head. "I am _not_ a lecturer. _Not_. Just call me Tom, you're too old to stick to formality. I mean come on, another few months and you'll be taller than me! And that's just - just _wrong_, you hear?! Stop growing! And call me 'Tom'."

Scott managed a weary smile in return. "That's gonna take a lot of getting used to." he stated quietly. "I've called you 'Dr. Palmar' ever since I was old enough to talk."

Thomas shrugged. "It was cute when you were six, I admit. Especially when I was cleaning your burns up. You were always so darn inquisitive, every job took ten times as long to complete. Now Virgil, there was a boy who you could never get enough of. As soon as he was old enough to understand the concept of applying a band-aid, he wanted to do it. Whoever has to give that boy medical attention in the future, they have my sympathy. Virgil always wanted to do everything himself."

"He's still like that, actually." Scott said, yawning slightly with a fond smile tugging at his lips. "He never tells you when he's hurt or sick, because he's always intent on fixing it himself. Luckily for me, he rarely gets sick. And apart from a few scrapes here and there, he doesn't usually injure himself, either. He's a great kid."

Thomas stared at him silently for a few minutes, a thoughtful expression playing across his face. Scott smiled at him, blinking back the blurry edges to his vision as his eyes drooped once more. Then he let out another huge yawn, covering his mouth with his hand and shaking his head to rid himself of the heavy fatigue that threatened to wash over him. Thomas noticed this and stood up, coming over to the bedside to put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're exhausted, Scott. Get some sleep." he instructed. "I'll be over in a little while with Alan, and I'll get him tucked in. Don't worry about a thing. I'll see you in the morning, kiddo."

"G'night, Dr. Palmar." Scott replied sleepily, pulling back the duvet and crawling into bed. Thomas, who had been walking back towards the door, froze. With a dramatic sigh, he turned around slowly and planted his hands on his hips.

"It's 'Tom', Scott." he said firmly, although his eyes danced merrily and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Putting one hand on the door-handle and the other on the the light-switch, he flashed a grin at the teenager. "I'd better go fetch the tranquiliser gun from the jet, just in case your father gets a little too stressed. You know what he's like. Well, g'night, kiddo!"

As the lights were turned off and the door closed, darkness fell over the room. Scott smiled slightly at Thomas' words. It was true, if Alan was sick or hurt in any way, his father probably _would _be stressed out of his head. Then Scott's smile faltered somewhat and a worried frown formed over his brow.

Tom _was_ joking about that tranquiliser gun, right?

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Glancing nervously towards the door, Jeff shifted Alan slightly in his arms and puffed out a frustrated breath. _What's taking him so long? Alan could be seriously sick or hurt, there's no time to beat about the bush! Maybe I should just go fetch Dr. Wilkinson. He was in here a little while ago to check up on Gordon, I should have snagged him then._

Suddenly, the doors '_swished' _open and Thomas Palmar strolled casually into the room, a large med-bag slung over one shoulder. He grinned at Jeff, then froze, a concerned frown sliding into place.

"Jeff?" he asked worriedly. "Jeff, what's wrong?"

"It's Alan." the Tracy patriarch stated, his voice sounding strained and panicked even in his own ears. "Tom, I think he's sick. He's burning up!"

Thomas dropped the bag at Jeff's feet and put a hand to Alan's forehead, wincing slightly at the heat that pulsed through the clammy skin. Pulling up a chair so that he sat with his knees inches away from Jeff's, he bent down and unzipped the bag.

"How long's he been like this?" the doctor inquired softly, fishing around for a moment, until he straightened up with an aural thermometer in his hand. Jeff frowned slightly as he tried to think more clearly.

_When **did** his fever start? I only noticed it about twenty-five minutes ago, but I hadn't exactly been feeling his forehead before that time. I really have no idea when the fever began, I've been too distracted this evening. Darn it, why didn't I pay closer attention to what was going on?! Haven't I already made enough mistakes?!_

Feeling his chest tighten with guilt, Jeff hugged his boy tighter and shook his head. "I don't know, Tom! I just don't know!"

"It's alright, don't sweat it." Thomas murmured, slipping the tip of the thermometer into Alan's ear. After the '_beep'_, he removed it and peered at the reading. "Hmm, he's got quite a temperature."

"How high?" Jeff demanded, his voice rising an octive in worry. Thomas glanced at him briefly, his green eyes flickering over Jeff's face, before he looked back down again at the bag on the floor.

"It's pretty high." he replied absently. "Now, did he complain of anything when he was awake? Any aches or pains?"

Jeff nodded quickly. "He said that his legs, arms and head hurt." he stated. "I don't know why or for how long, but-" he paused, thinking hard. "Earlier this evening, in the family waiting area downstairs, he seemed to be in a little pain. But he fell asleep before I could ask what was wrong. I - I just assumed that his knees were bothering him."

"Yeah, I noticed those." Thomas remarked lightly, taking Alan's wrist gently and feeling for a pulse, watching as the boy stirred slightly in Jeff's arms. Once Alan had settled down once more, he looked back up at Jeff. "What did he do to them?"

"He - he fell over." Jeff replied weakly, fighting against the terrible memories that assaulted him from what had happened earlier that evening. _Oh God, I nearly lost them. I nearly lost the both of them._

"Jeff?" Thomas called, frowning slightly. Jeff shook his head and blinked the images out of his eyes.

"Whilst he was running on his own, from the west beach back to the house, he slipped and injured both his knees." he explained, his voice a little stronger. "One of them was cut pretty deep, but the boys helped me to patch him up. They were disinfected and cleaned up as good as can be, I don't understand - do you think that they're the cause of his fever?"

Thomas shook his head, lightly running his fingers over the skin around the bandage. "No, it's far too soon for an infection to have set in through the wounds. Alan's fever and pain is most likely a result of his exposure to the harsh weather conditions."

"Daddy?" a sleepy voice inquired softly. Jeff glanced down to see two blue eyes gazing back up at him through half-closed lids.

"Hey, baby." Jeff whispered, putting on a fake smile. "Sorry I woke you up. How are you feeling?"

Alan shifted around slightly so that he sat up a little straighter, and gazed in curiosity at Thomas. Jeff noticed who his youngest son was looking at, and moved his arms up so that they supported Alan against his chest.

"Alan, this is a friend of the family, Dr. Thomas Palmar." he said slowly. "Do you remember him?"

Alan paused, frowning slightly, then shook his head a little. Jeff had thought as much. It had been over fourteen months since Thomas had last visited the Tracy family in person, having been up on the space station from then until now. It was highly unlikely that Alan's memory would have been good enough to remember somebody from so long ago.

Thomas smiled and leaned forward, offering his hand for the little boy to shake. "Hey, Alan. I'm Dr. Palmar, and I used to babysit you from time to time when you were a lot younger than you are now. But I've been up in space for a long time, so I haven't been able to pop over and say 'hi' as often as I'd of liked to."

Jeff smiled, despite his worry, when he felt Alan relax against him. Taking the older man's big hand in his own little one, the five-year-old shook it gently. Thomas grinned as Alan released his hold, bending down to pick up an object from within his bag.

"Now Alan, your dad says that you're not feeling too good." he began, looking the boy straight in the eye. "Can you tell me what's wrong? Then I can try and make it better."

Alan opened his mouth as if to answer, but seemed to suddenly change his mind and instead curled closer into Jeff's chest, lowering his gaze to the floor. Jeff rubbed his back gently, looking at Tom with a desperate glance. His friend gave him a '_calm-down-before-you-hurt-yourself_ ' type of look, before returning his attention to the small boy.

"Do your legs hurt?" he asked. After a seconds pause, there was a small nod of confirmation, and Thomas smiled kindly. "They do? Oh man, that sucks. Does anything else hurt?"

Alan blinked through tear-filled eyes at the doctor and sniffed miserably. Pointing to his throat, his bottom lip wobbled slightly and he gripped onto Jeff's shirt with the other hand. Jeff frowned. _That's new. He wasn't complaining of a sore throat before now. Is he getting worse?_

"Your throat hurts, too?" Thomas offered. At Alan's tiny nod, he picked up a second object from the bag and inched a little closer to the boy. "Alan, can you open really wide for me so that I can take a look at your throat?" he asked. "I'm gonna put a little flat stick on your tongue and flash a light into your mouth, but it won't hurt at all. Okay?"

Alan looked slightly hesitant as he eyed the tongue-depressor and pen-light in the doctor's hands. Jeff reached up to cup his warm cheek gently, brushing the hot skin with his thumb in a soothing fashion.

"It's alright, Allie." he murmured gently. "Just open up and let Tom have a look."

Obediently, the boy listened to his father's reassuring tones and opened his mouth, allowing Thomas to inspect the back of his throat using the penlight.

"Mmm." Thomas remarked softly, removing the tongue-depressor and putting a finger beneath Alan's chin. Closing the boy's mouth, he continued to push upwards until Alan's head was raised towards him. Flashing the light in his eyes, the doctor murmured under his breath and put the back of his hand to Alan's forehead once more.

"Your head hurts too, right kiddo?" he questioned tenderly. Alan nodded again, leaning against Jeff's chest and closing his eyes briefly. Jeff rubbed his back and planted a gentle kiss on top of his hair, before glancing up at his old friend with worried eyes.

"Tom, what's wrong with him?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. When the doctor did not reply, but continued to gaze at the floor with a thoughtful frown upon his face, Jeff grew slightly frustrated.

"Tom." he said, his voice low and with a note of warning. Then, realising that this method would, like it had always done, fail, Jeff opted for a different tactic. "Thomas, please?" he begged, sounding just as desperate and worried as he felt. "Is he seriously ill? What's wrong with him? Tell me, please!"

Thomas blinked up at him in surprise. "Geez, Jeff, calm down!" he exclaimed, looking slightly surprised. "It's alright. You're blowing this thing way outta proportion."

"But what's wrong with him?" Jeff repeated, a little more in control of his emotions. "And how do we fix it?"

Thomas zipped up his bag and sighed, putting his chin on top of his clasped hands and resting his elbows upon his knees. He gazed at Jeff steadily, and the Tracy patriarch found himself becoming slightly uncomfortable as he was exposed to that oh-so-familiar penetrating stare. After a moment's silence, Thomas exhaled slowly and lowered his hands.

"Jeff, I'm going to go and make some calls." he stated. "I want to see if I can get an immediate transfer of authority to this hospital so that I can be in charge of Gordon's case. After that, I'll see about getting a bed for Alan."

"You're going to admit him?" Jeff questioned breathlessly. _Is it really that serious?_

"I just want him to be as close to you as possible." Thomas explained smoothly. "If I were to take him back to the hotel room and treat him there, you'd be caught between wanting to come with me and wanting to stay here with Gordon, which is where you should be. He'll be waking up soon and you're gonna want to be here for him."

"But, Alan-" Jeff stuttered, feeling thoroughly confused and lost.

"Okay, Jeff, listen closely." Thomas said, keeping his voice low and soothing. "Alan is going to be just fine. Yes, he is sick. And yes, it's because of the storm. But he's only caught a bad chill. He'll be bouncing around again in a couple of days. Until then, he's going to want to stay as close to you as possible, so that's why I'm going to admit him into the hospital. Plus, should his condition worsen for any reason, we'll have the resources we need to treat him. Alright?"

Jeff nodded slowly. "Alright."

Thomas stood up. "Good man. Right, I'm gonna go make some calls, then I'll be back in here to take care of Alan, okay? Actually, I think I'll give him a dose of Tylenol now, just to help lower his fever."

Unzipping his bag once more and sifting around, he fished out a bottle of liquid Tylenol and picked up a small measuring cup. Pouring some of the sticky liquid into the cup, he squinted as he held it up towards the light to measure the dose, before nodding in approval and leaning forward in his seat towards Alan.

"Alan?" he called softly, tapping the boy's cheek. "Can you wake up for a sec, kiddo?"

Alan opened two wear eyes and grunted softly. Thomas frowned a little, cocking his head to the side, before handing the small cup to Jeff. "See if you can get him to take it, he's not quite awake yet and I'll probably just upset him if I try and force it down him."

Jeff shifted his hold on Alan so that he could support him a little more firmly, raising the cup to the boy's lips. "Allie, I need you to take this medicine, okay? It'll help to make you feel better. Can you do that for me?"

Alan nodded slightly, swallowing the liquid without complaint. Jeff handed the cup back to Thomas, before putting his arm back around Alan's body and settling him into a more comfortable position.

"Good boy." he murmured proudly. "That's it, Alan, just close your eyes now. Go back to sleep. That's right."

As Jeff watched his son fall back asleep, Thomas stood quietly to his feet and slung the bag over his shoulder. Putting a hand on Jeff's arm, he looked the other man in the eye.

"Jeff," he said gravely. "Once we've got Alan sorted and settled into bed, you and I are going to have a chat, alright?"

Jeff blanched slightly, feeling his heartbeat quicken. "About what?" he asked innocently.

Thomas smiled a little. "About a lot of things, pal. But mainly about you. I don't think it's a topic of conversation you've discussed in a long, long time. And you need to talk to someone."

Jeff nodded. _He's right, I do need to talk. I need to tell someone - anyone - what's going on in my head right now. And Tom has always been good at listening. He'll understand. This isn't something I'll ever be able to discuss with the boys, but I can count on Tom to pick out the problems and show me - show me where abouts I went so terribly wrong with - with everything._

Thomas smiled at him once more, before heading towards the door. As they opened, he paused and looked back into the room, smiling at the way that Jeff gazed lovingly from the dozing child in his arms to the sleeping boy on the bed. Then, with a resigned sigh, he exited the room and the doors '_swished' _close behind him.

Jeff heard his friend exit, but his gaze never strayed from the beautiful faces of his sleeping children. Brushing a strand of blond hair from Alan's fevered brow, he kissed the warm skin gently and closed his eyes, feeling content to just hold his child close and never let him go. Alan was going to be alright, it was nothing serious. Both he and Gordon were safe and out of harms way, and Jeff had been given a second chance. Another chance to set things straight. Another chance to change things for the better. Another chance to show his children how much they truly meant to him. In short, Jeff had been given a second chance at fatherhood.

_I promise, boys, that no matter what happens, I will never dissappoint you again. I will be the father you want. I will never desert you. And I swear, for as long as I live and breathe upon this earth, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you know how I feel about you. How much I love you. And yes, when you boys wake up in the morning, daddy is gonna have to have a **long** talk about what's happened over the past year..._

* * *

**_Will Jeff keep his word? Will he really be able to discuss his emotions with all of his sons, or will his conversation with Tom be enough? And what will our favourite doctor have to say when he finds out how Jeff has been neglecting his childrens' needs since Lucy's death? And how will Scott react when he awakens to find that Alan is not there in the room beside him? Find out in the next chapter!_**

**_Okay, it's all over for today! Thanks for taking the time to read this. As for my next update, I'm not entirely certain when it will be. In less than a week, I can promise you that, but this virus is really robbing me of my strength and I can't really keep to deadlines at the moment. Sorry. But hey, if it isn't up by Saturday, you can officially travel to England and shoot me (in a loving and caring fashion, of course). Lol._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and make a poor sick teenager feel appreciated (hint hint). Only joking, I love ya and want to know what you thought. Was the chapter as crappy as I feel, or is it just me? Lol, don't say that or I will die. Thank you. See ya next time!_**

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	16. Chapter 15: On Coffee and Conversations

**_Hiya guys, I'm back! Wow, it seems like ages since I last posted a chapter. Well, four days is a long time for me. Good news is, I'm a lot better than I was before. Bad news is, that means I'm gonna try and drag myself into college sometime next week, so I'll be doing a lot of catch-up work over the next few days. 'sigh'_**

**_Well, let's not focus on the bad stuff. Why not think about the nice silver lining to this storm cloud? Here it is - the next chapter!_**

* * *

Jeff smiled as he ran his fingers through Alan's damp blond locks. He was feeling decidedly less stressed-out now that his youngest son was fast asleep and settled in a hospital bed alongside his brother. Jeff didn't know how, but Thomas had somehow managed to coax the hospital staff into allowing Alan's bed to be wheeled into Gordon's private room. In truth, the room was certainly big enough for the two beds, and Alan needed to be close to his father. Well, either that or it was _Jeff_ who needed to be close to his baby.

Jeff's eyes traveled over the soft features of his youngest child, studying the tiny details that he had never noticed before. How could a boy change so drastically in just over a year? There was so much Jeff didn't know about Alan, so much he had missed out on in the long months that he had spent swimming in papers. Alan grunted softly and shifted beneath the sheets, his small face twitching as he relaxed against the mattress. Jeff's smile softened into a fond smirk as he recognised the characteristics that Alan had displayed since infancy. _I guess some things never change. Man, just look at him. He's adorable. All my boys are so special. And Alan, h__e looks so much like Lucy. So much like her..._

Jeff felt hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and he hurriedly blinked them away. Glancing over to where his copper-haired child lay sleeping, he felt his throat tighten painfully. His eyes skimmed over the injured arm, the prominent bump at the end of the bed, the pale features. Jeff had done this to him. He had allowed this to happen to his children. And he could hardly stand the burning guilt that seared within his chest. All that he wanted was to see his precious boys happy and awake once more.

Gordon had awakened from his anaesthetic-induced slumber just over an hour ago, but he had been exceedingly lethargic as a result of the drugs in his system. Consequently, Jeff had been unable to say much to him before he'd fallen back to sleep once more. However, simply knowing that his son was conscious had given Jeff indescribable joy. There had been many times during the storm on the island when he had thought that he would never have the chance to speak to his son again. There had been times when he'd felt as though he had lost his two youngest boys forever. But he hadn't lost them. They had been returned to him alive and relatively whole. Considering the ferocity of the storm, and the massive expanse of dangerous jungle that surrounded the villa on Tracy Island, it was a miracle that Gordon and Alan had managed to survive the night.

As this thought passed through Jeff's mind, he felt his chest tighten once again as the guilt increased tenfold. _Oh Lucy, I nearly lost them. Thank you for giving me a second chance. Thank you for bringing them back to me. I wish I could just see them both awake again. I need to know that they're alright. I need to hear them laughing and playing. I haven't heard that sound in such a long time, Lucy. Not since - not since I lost you. But that's all about to change. As soon as they're both well enough, I'm gonna give these kids everything I've got. Scrap work, that can wait. I just want to make my boys happy. I just want to have the chance to tell them how much I love them._

As though he had heard Jeff's silent plea, Gordon suddnely began to stir beneath the blankets. Jeff shot to his feet, striding across the small distance of ground that seperated the two beds, and sitting down on the edge of Gordon's mattress. Taking the young boy's hand in his, he leaned forward and rubbed his son's shoulder gently.

"Gordon? Gordy?" he called softly, feeling his heart fluttering hopefully. "Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes for me, son?"

Slowly, a pair of weary green eyes unveiled themselves and blinked up at Jeff groggily. Smiling, Jeff bent down towards Gordon's face and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Hey there, kiddo." he greeted affectionately, reaching out to press the call-button on the nearest panel so that he could alert the nurse to the fact that Gordon was now conscious. "How are you feeling?"

Gordon grunted and frowned slightly. "Dad? Wha'" he croaked, his eyes glancing nervously at the monitors and equipment above the bed. He shifted again, his frown increasing as his stiff body protested the movement.

"Take it easy, Gordon." Jeff soothed, moving his hand up to cup his son's cheek. "Everything's al-"

He froze, a frown of his own flitting accross his brow as he felt the unnatural heat radiating from Gordon's warm cheeks. _Oh crap. Gordon's running a fever. That can't be good, not in his condition. _

At that moment, there came a familiar '_swish' _as the doors opened, and Thomas Palmar stepped into the room.

"Hey Jeff, is Gordon awake again?" he asked, striding forward quickly and dropping his voice so as not to awaken Alan. He smiled at the copper-haired boy, before turning towards the older Tracy and noticing the frown. "Jeff? What's wrong?"

"Tom, I think Gordon's running a fever." he stated, his voice shaking slightly. Thomas leaned over the bed slightly, putting the back of his hand to Gordon's forehead and cocking his head to one side thoughtfully.

"Hi, Gordon." he said softly, his hand moving to Gordon's cheek before he withdrew it and pressed the call-button on the wall once more. "It's me again. Do you remember waking up in here a little while ago?"

Gordon nodded slightly. "Hospital, right?" he slurred, his voice cracking slightly.

"That's right, kiddo." Thomas smiled. "Looks like you're a little but more awake than you were earlier on. Man, I haven't seen you in a long while, but I used to help you pull pranks on your older brothers, remember?"

Gordon frowned slightly, before a faint spark of realisation dawned in his eyes and he smiled weakly. "Yup, I r'member." he croaked, his eyelids drooping slightly before snapping back open again.

"You helped him do _what_?" Jeff asked incredulously, staring at his old friend in disbelief. Thomas glanced over at him and shrugged.

"What? Oh c'mon, it wasn't anything dangerous!" he protested in an attempt to defend himself, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the other sleeping boy. "And besides, it was pay-back for something that Scott had already done to you, wasn't it, kiddo?"

Gordon grinned sleepily and nodded his head, only to stop and wince slightly when this action caused him obvious pain. Thomas' expression became serious once more, and he turned to look at the nurse that had just entered the room.

"Chrissy, could you run and fetch me ten of liquid Tylenol, please?" he asked softly. The nurse nodded and left swiftly, and Thomas turned back towards Gordon. Taking the thermometer from the bedside table, he waved it in front of the boy's face.

"Gordon, I'm just gonna check your temperature, okay?" he stated gently. He slipped the tip of the device into the boy's ear, waiting for the shrill '_beep_' that would indicate the reading having been taken. When it sounded, he withdrew the thermometer and peered at the numbers on the side, frowning slightly.

"What? What is it?" Jeff asked worriedly, his fingers continuing to run smoothly through Gordon's copper hair. _It's high. I just know it is. He's gonna and caught a bad chill on top of everything else._

Thomas sighed deeply and turned to him with slightly raised eyebrows. "Jeff, what did we discuss earlier about you and aneurysms?"

Managing a weak, sheepish smile, Jeff looked back down at his son and took a calming breath. "Sorry. I know I'm being overly paranoid. I'm just worried about him. About both of them."

"Well don't be." Thomas smiled softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing to be worried about, Jeff. It's just a slight fever. And besides, with the antibiotics Gordon's on, it's near impossible for him to contract anything particularly serious at the moment."

Giving Jeff's shoulder a final squeeze, Thomas turned his attention back to the boy on the bed before him. "Hey Gordon, you thirsty?" he asked.

Gordon swallowed and nodded ever so slightly. Seeing this, Thomas reached over to the trolley on the other side of the bed and retrieved a glass of water and a straw. Putting the straw to Gordon's lips, he smiled encouragingly.

"Little sips, kiddo." he instructed. Gordon obeyed, sighing as the cool water clearly soothed his parched mouth. Once he had quenched his thirst, Thomas set the glass back down on the side and straightened up.

"Dad?" Gordon questioned wearily. Jeff leaned in closer and brushed his fingers over Gordon's cheek tenderly.

"Yes, son?" he inquired, keeping his voice low so as not to worsen the boy's headache.

Gordon frowned a little as he glanced around at the room. "How'd I get here?"

"You don't remember?" Jeff asked worriedly, glancing over at Thomas with concern in his eyes. Gordon shook his head slightly.

"That's alright, Gordon." the doctor assured him. "You're just tired. You'll be able to remember a lot more when you've had a good night's sleep. Now, I'm gonna go and see what's keeping Chrissy. Can you try your very best to keep awake for me whilst I'm gone? I'll be back real soon, I promise."

At Gordon's tiny nod, Thomas smiled and headed towards the door. Before leaving, he turned back to the bed and grinned. "Oh, and Gordon? Make sure your dad stays awake too, okay?"

Gordon smiled sleepily. "Okay."

Once the doors had closed, Jeff looked back down at his son and smiled fondly. "How're you feeling, kiddo?"

Gordon blinked up at him and frowned slightly. "My body's all stiff." he said, grunting slightly. "And my leg hurts."

Jeff pressed the back of Gordon's hand to his cheek and sighed sadly. "I know it does, son. You broke your leg on the island, and we had to fly you over to the hospital to get it mended."

"I broke it?" Gordon asked quietly, his eyelids beginning to slide closed. Jeff patted his cheek gently to wake him up.

"Yeah, buddy, you - you fell off a rock on the beach." Jeff said hesitantly, wondering whether there was any use in explaining what had happened when Gordon was in such a lethargic state.

"Oh." Gordon remarked softly, his eyes closing completely as the fatigue threatened to drag him back under. "Okay."

"Gordon." Jeff called gently, rubbing the boy's cheek with his thumb in an attempt to awaken him. "Stay awake, son. Open your eyes for me. That's it."

After five long minutes, in which Jeff struggled to keep his son from falling asleep, Thomas returned with the dose of Tylenol held in one hand, and a plastic cup-holder with two coffee cups held in the other. Handing the Tylenol to Jeff with the instructions to give it to Gordon, the doctor set the coffee down on the bedside table and moved over to the other side of the room to check on Alan.

Putting the tiny measuring cup to Gordon's lips, Jeff tipped it slightly. "Drink this down, Gordo, and then you can go right back to sleep."

Gordon obediently swallowed the medicine, grimacing ever so slightly at the sickly-sweet aftertaste it left in his mouth. Jeff smiled and set the cup down, leaning forwards to plant a long, tender kiss atop Gordon's warm forehead.

"Good boy." he murmured. "Alright, you can go to sleep now if you want to."

"Okay, dad." Gordon slurred, closing his eyes as the grip on Jeff's hand relaxed slightly.

"Gordon?" Jeff said softly, his hand cupping the warm cheek as he gazed lovingly at his son's face.

"Mmm?" came the weary response.

"I love you, son." Jeff whispered, putting as much love and affection as he could into those words. A faint smile blossomed on the sleepy face before him.

"Love you too." Gordon mumbled, sighing in content before promptly falling asleep. Jeff blinked back the tears that threatened to blind him once more, smiling shakily at the innocent love he knew he didn't deserve. By all rights, his children should have been hating him for what he had done to them. Or, moreover, for what he _hadn't_ done.

Thomas, who had been taking Alan's temperature, glanced over at his old friend and noticed the haunted look in his eyes. Frowning slightly, he set the thermometer back down and picked up a chair, moving it to Gordon's bedside. Grabbing the coffee cups, he took a seat and nudged Jeff with his foot. When the Tracy patriarch turned towards him, he smiled slightly.

"Coffee. You. Drink." he instructed, thrusting one of the cups into Jeff's hand. Jeff gave him a questioning glance.

"That's very unlike you." he stated, a ghost of a smile playing across his face. "What happened to '_Jeff, your addicted. Stop drinking coffee.' _I thought you were against me consuming too much caffeine?"

Thomas hesitated slightly, peering intently into Jeff's eyes. "How many have you had so far?"

Jeff shrugged. "Two. Maybe three." he replied evasively. Thomas smiled.

"Okay. In other words - four, maybe five." he stated. Jeff grinned sheepishly.

"You know me too well." he said, taking a sip from his cup and sighing. Thomas nodded and sat quietly for a moment, studying his friend in silence. Jeff shifted nervously under the gaze. _Man, I hate it when he does that. I'm sure he's telepathic. He's gonna have everything worked out by the time he next says something, I can almost bet on it. He'll already know what I'm feeling and why I'm feeling it, even though I don't. That's why he's such a great guy. But man, he sure does scare the crap outta me sometimes. It's like he can read minds or something._

"Yeah, Jeff, I do know you pretty well." Thomas said at last. "In fact, I know you better than almost anybody. That's why I know for a fact that something's eating at you. And you need to talk about it, Jeff. It'll only get harder to bear if you keep it bottled up inside."

_Bingo. He's hit the nail right on the head, as always. That's Tom for you, getting straight to the point. No 'dilly-dallying' around. Just barges in head-first. And he's right, of course, I do need to talk about this._

"Tom I-" Jeff paused, taking another swig of coffee. Then he dropped his head into his hand and rubbed at his face wearily. "Man, I really screwed up this time."

The doctor raised a questioning eyebrow, but refrained from making a comment. Jeff scrubbed the back of his neck nervously with one hand, purposefully trying to avoid Thomas' steady gaze.

"Tom, ever since - ever since the accident, I've been working pretty hard, right?" he began. Thomas merely nodded, and Jeff took in deep breath. Then he let out a shaky laugh and shook his head.

"Actually, 'pretty hard' doesn't quite cover it, does it?" he admitted softly. "I buried myself away in papers and reports, trying to escape from the real world outside of my office. The harder I worked, the less I had to think about - about what had happened in the past. But I - I never realised what I was doing to the boys. I didn't think-"

He stopped again, taking in another breath to get his emotions back under control. "The day that Lucy died, I was so devastated. I didn't know how I was supposed to live without her. She had meant everything to me, Tommy. She and the boys were my life. But when the doctors told me that she wouldn't make it, it was like a part of me switched off. For over a year, I've been this working-eating-sleeping robot. I never once thought about how my behaviour would affect my children."

Swallowing painfully, Jeff shook his head again, this time out of sadness. "Tom, I stole Scott's childhood from him." he stated softly.

Thomas took a slow drink of coffee and frowned, seemingly trying to figure out what Jeff was trying to tell him. "How d'you mean, Jeff?" he asked lightly.

"All that responsibility - his brothers, school, life at home - everything, I heaped it all onto his shoulders." Jeff said shakily, a look of pain passing over his face. "What kind of a father does that to his kids? What kind of a father leaves them to look after themselves whilst he attends conference after conference in an attempt to block out the memories of his past life? How could I have done that, Tom?"

Thomas looked with some concern at the tears that were now forming in Jeff's eyes. Laughing bitterly, the Tracy patriarch shook his head once again and looked down at his coffee cup. His eyes glazed over slightly as the expression of pain and sadness became fixed upon his face.

"And then, after everything I'd done to them, I nearly got two of them killed." he said, self-hatred lining his voice. "I nearly lost them, Tom. I nearly lost two of my boys. How could I have let that happen?"

"It wasn't your fault, Jeff." Thomas stated firmly, his eyes full of compassion and understanding. "You weren't the one in charge of the weather. You couldn't have prevented the storm from taking place. I'm sure you did everything you could to keep them safe."

Jeff glanced up at him, and his face was filled with such pain and anguish that Thomas felt his own heart clench painfully. "Did I make sure they were all inside when the storm began? No. Did I even bother to make sure that they had all understood the danger that the tropical storm posed? No. Did I even notice that they had gone missing? No. No, Tom, I didn't do everything to keep them safe. I did a great, big, fat load of nothing!"

"Jeff-" the doctor began, wishing to comfort his friend. However, Jeff didn't seem to have heard him, and continued his self-deprecating rant.

"You know, before this whole thing happened, I hadn't spoken to Alan in weeks." he said, his voice cracking slightly as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "_Weeks_, Tom. Oh, I'd speak to them as a group often enough. Sweeping statements to inform them that I'd be working late and that they should eat dinner without me. But to Alan directly? No. Not even a '_Goodnight, son. I love you._' In fact, I haven't put the kids to bed since Lucy died, you know. I left all that to Scott and John as well. They did everything, Tom, everything! And did I ever acknowledge that? No, never!"

"You're acknowledging it now." Thomas observed quietly. Jeff puffed out a frustrated breath and shook his head.

"But it's too late now, Tom." he said bitterly. "I've failed them as a father. I doubt I can ever make it up to them. How can I expect them to forgive me after what I've done to them? And how can Scotty ever go back to having a normal childhood after all this? You should see him, Tom. He's changed so much. I can barely see the kid in him anymore."

Thomas placed his coffee cup on the floor and leaned forward in his chair, grasping Jeff arms firmly. "Jefferson Tracy, look at me." he ordered. Flinching slightly at the use of his full name, Jeff slowly raised his eyes to meet those of his best friend. Thomas' face softened and he sighed.

"Jeff, it's never too late to make things right." he stated. "Yes, you've been a complete jerk over the past thirteen months, but that doesn't mean you're a lousy father. You _were_ a lousy father, I can tell that simply by looking at the state you're in now. But the fact that you _are_ actually in a state shows me that the stubborn, over-protective fatherly side of you realises what an ass you've been ever since the accident. And Jeff, that's what really matters. You've changed back into your old self. This is the most you've talked about your emotions since I left for the station. And, no matter what you may think, your boys adore you."

"But-" Jeff began, a part of him not daring to believe that his friend's words were true.

"But nothing, Jeff." Thomas said firmly. "You saw how the boy's reacted to you when you spoke to them. Was it with any distaste or anger? No. They love you, Jeff. You're their father. And no matter what's happened over the past year, they'll be willing to forgive you in a heartbeat. They just need to understand that the workaholic-Jeff has gone for good. Just tell them the truth, Jeff. Scott and John need to know. The other boys...well, maybe it can wait until they're a little older and they can understand it all better. But right now, all that they want is a father who loves them. And you love them, Jeff. That much is obvious."

Jeff ignored the tears that were now spilling down his cheeks, and pulled his old friend into a grateful, crushing embrace. "Thanks, Tom." he croaked, his voice constricted by the emotions that overwhelmed him. "For everything."

Thomas chuckled softly as they pulled apart, although he kept his hands on Jeff's forearms. "That's what I'm here for, pal." he stated sincerely. "Smart, devilishly handsome, _and_ good at solving family breakdowns. Admit it, I'm wonderful."

Jeff laughed and punched him lightly on the arm, wiping away the tears and smiling. His heart felt lighter than it had done in - well - truth be told, he hadn't felt this free in months. In fact, not since Lucy's death. Suddenly, there was no dark cloud on the horizon. There was no grey fog blotting out the light. There was the promise of a new day, a day in which Jeff Tracy would set things straight. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, and Jeff was heading towards it at full-speed.

Taking another gulp of coffee, Jeff ran his fingers through Gordon's hair. For the first time in a long while, he could see a bright future ahead of him for all of his family. Everything was going to be alright.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Scott Tracy awoke in a strange bed. There was no twittering of tropical birds, no gentle crashing of the waves upon the shore, no whispering of the wind as it blew through the palm trees. He wasn't on the island, of that much he was certain.

Rolling over, he rubbed at his eyes and stared around the room. _Oh yeah, the hotel room. How long have I been asleep? Well, at least the sun's up. Man, I'm tired. Maybe I should catch a couple more hours of shut-eye before I go and visit Gordon. Hmm, I wonder if Alan slept okay. I'll just go and make sure he's comfortable. _

Glancing over towards the other bed, Scott began to push himself up on his arms. He stopped, frozen to the spot, when he noticed the empty bed and untouched sheets. _Where the heck is he?!_

"Alan?" he called, practically falling out of bed in his haste to get up. "Allie? Are you in here?"

Even as he called, he knew that he was doing so in vain. Alan was, quite clearly, elsewhere. Swearing loudly, Scott ran to the door and wrenched it open, jogging down the corridor towards John and Virgil's room. Knocking on it loudly, he bounced nervously on the balls of his feet and swung his arms in an attempt to rid himself of all the stress-induced energy that was building up inside of him. After a long pause, there was the click of a lock and the door in front of him finally opened.

"Scott? What are you doing here? It's only just gone seven."

A very disheveled and sleepy-looking John stared up at him in weary confusion. Then his eyes widened. "Scott, what's the matter? Is it Gordon? Is he alright?"

Scott held up a hand. "John, not now. Just - just please tell me that Alan is in there with you guys?" he asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

"No, he's with you." John replied, looking even more confused. He suddenly saw the expression on Scott's face and all the colour drained from his cheeks. "Isn't he?"

Scott shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, there's gotta be a perfectly good explanation as to why he didn't come back last night. Maybe - maybe dad got his own hotel room and kept Alan with him instead. I mean, it's a possibility, right?"

Scott realised that he was waffling, and clamped his mouth shut as he inhaled deeply through his nose. John scrubbed at his face nervously and shook his head.

"Scott, dad would have stayed with Gordon, you know that." he said. "Look, why don't we just call him on his cell? He won't have turned it off."

Scott nodded. "Good idea. Right, okay, you stay here and I'll - I'll - um-"

"Call dad." John offered, sounding only a little exasperated. Scott nodded and sprinted back into his own room, trying to keep his stomach from doing back-flips as the worry pulsed through his veins. _Oh God, please let him be alright. Darn it, I should have stayed with him! I should never__ have left the hospital without him! _

Grabbing his cell-phone from his bag, he quickly dialed his father's number and put the device to his ear, pacing up and down the room in an attempt to calm his nerves. After a few rings, the call was answered.

"Scott?" Jeff asked, a hint of concern lining his voice. "What are you doing up so early son, is something wrong? Are you alright?"

"Dad, Alan didn't return to the hotel last night." Scott reported worriedly. "Dr. Palmar said that he'd bring him back here after he'd examined him, but he never did. Is he there with you? Please, please tell me he's there with you."

"Relax, Scotty, he's here." Jeff said soothingly. "It's alright. Tom decided to admit Alan into hospital last night so that-"

"WHAT?!" Scott thundered, his heart nearly jumping out of his throat. "What's wrong, is he alright, is he hurt? Why was he-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jeff voice cut him off mid-rant. "Scotty, Alan's gonna be just fine. He's caught a bad chill that's all. He's got a bit of a fever and a sore throat, so Tom thought it would be best to keep him where he and I can look after him. He'll be fine in a couple of days, Scotty, it's nothing to worry about."

Scott sank down heavily onto one of the beds, breathing rapidly as his heart thudded wildly within his chest. "Oh - oh thank God." he managed to gasp. "I thought - I thought that-"

"Calm down, son." Jeff murmured calmly. "It's alright. I'm sorry, I should have called you or something."

"No, it's alright, you've kinda been distracted by things lately." Scott stated. "What with Gordon's broken leg and Alan's sickness, you can't be expected to do everything, Dad."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, before Scott heard his father take in a shaky breath. "Thanks, Scott. I needed to hear that. But you and I need to have a little talk about - things. Alright? There's a lot we have to discuss."

Scott nodded and stood up. "Sure thing, Dad, I'll head right over."

"Oh no you don't." Jeff said, and Scott could hear a slight smile in his voice. "You're going right back to bed for at least another hour or so. Then you're to shower and have a good breakfast before even _thinking_ about coming over here. You got that?"

"Okay, Dad." Scott replied, and he was wearing smile that he knew matched his father's. "But I doubt I'll get much sleep now. I'd better go and tell John that the panic's over. See you later, Dad."

"Bye, son." Jeff replied.

Snapping the phone shut, he rubbed a weary hand over his face and sighed. _Man, I hope Alan's okay. And I wonder what dad wants to talk about. It's been a heck of a long time since we actually had a 'talk' of any kind. It's always just been him informing me of something. But he sounded pretty serious on the phone. Maybe he's gonna talk to me about his sudden change in personality. It's weird, it's like dad's actually acting like he used to do before - before the accident. It's been so long since I've heard him laugh like that, or even smile like that._

Smiling to himself, Scott sighed slightly. _Well, even though what happened last night was awful, it seems that some good has come out of it. If we've got Dad back - our dad, not the workaholic he was before - then I guess maybe all the pain and worry will have been for something. Maybe, just maybe, my prayers have been answered and there's hope for our family after all..._

* * *

**_How will our family heal over the next few days? Will things improve both physically and emotionally? And when Jeff starts to have far-flung ideas about saving people, how will Thomas react? Find out soon!_**

**_Okay guys, very vague on the next update. Not sure when I can do do it because, as I said, I'm gonna be doing a lot of catch-up work over the next few days so that I'm ready to go back to college. But I'll hopefully have it posted by the end of the week._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your feedback/suggestions/concrit and lots of other bla-bla-bla. Thanks for reading! Love ya!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	17. Chapter 16: Cold Milk and Warm Hearts

**_Hiya guys, it's me again! Wow, it's good to be back. I was finally allowed to go back to college on Thursday, and I've been hard at work all week trying to catch up on all the subjects that I've fallen behind in. But everything's alright now, and it's the weekend, so I've found the time I need to type out the next chapter! ('does celebratory dance')_**

**_I have been dying to post this all week, as it's been circling around in my head ever since my last update. But that just means that I've had even more time to think things through, so hopefully this chapter will be satisfactory._**

**_Thanks for being so wonderfully patient, and for reviewing my last chapter so diligently. As always, it's you guys who inspire my creative flow. Now please, read on...and enjoy!_**

* * *

Thomas Palmar rubbed a hand over his face and blinked hard to dispel the fuzziness from his vision. He needed sleep, he knew that for a fact, but he wasn't going anywhere until Jeff had agreed to get some rest. Despite his friend's assurances, Thomas knew that it was highly probable that Jeff would not leave his sons' bedsides until they were discharged from the hospital. And, depending on how long it took for the boys' temperatures to return to a safer level, they would most likely be kept in for at least another night.

Sighing, the doctor straightened up and exited the small office that he was sharing with Andrew Myers, a younger doctor who was working the morning shift in the same section of the hospital. Walking down the corridor past the other private rooms, he headed for the room where Alan and Gordon were being cared for. Pressing the button on the panel beside the doors, he waited a split second for them to slide open, before stepping into the room. The sight that greeted him brought a smile to his face.

Jeff sat in one of the hospital chairs, his upper body pillowed on the area of mattress beside Alan's sleeping form. One of his hands was lightly placed on his son's chest, and the other was beneath his head as he slept soundly, oblivious to the grin that was rapidly spreading across his friend's face. Thomas quietly approached Jeff and laid a hand on the other man's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Jeff?" he murmured, so as not to awaken the two children who were also snoozing peacefully. The Tracy patriarch stirred and grunted softly, opening his eyes. Then his body tensed and he shot upwards, his eyes darting worriedly between the two beds.

"Is everything alright?" he asked worriedly, his voice muffled slightly by fatigue. Thomas smiled and nodded.

"Everything's fine, Jeff." he stated. "Don't panic."

"Good." Jeff sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and blinking his eyes furiously in an attempt to wake up. Rotating his head slightly, he massaged the crick in his neck and glanced down at his watch. "Eight o'clock, huh? Man, I must have fallen asleep right after Scott phoned."

Thomas nodded. "Yup. That's why you need to get your butt into a proper bed in the hotel across the road."

Jeff shook his head, running a hand over Alan's arm gently. "I'm fine, Tom. I'll get some rest later."

The doctor rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Famous last words." he muttered. Jeff grinned.

"You know, it's shocking how much you _haven't_ changed in seventeen years, Tom." he mused cheerfully. "Because, as I recall, you said those exact same words to me when that service panel got fried on-board the station halfway through our first rotation together."

"Yes, well you really _were _being stupid then, Jeff." Thomas stated, smiling slightly. "I mean c'mon, was there any need for the circuitry to be fixed by you, and you alone? There were another four engineers who could have done that job, but you insisted that _you_ were the only one who could fix it. I never understood why."

"It was a personal matter." Jeff replied, a slight frown passing over his face as he recalled the incident. "That service panel was forever on the fritz, and to make matters worse, it only malfunctioned during _my_ shift. Never when Sam or Jack were on duty, only when it was me working solo in that section of the station. And I'm sorry, but when the darn thing was completely fried by that massive energy surge we experienced, it was the final straw. I was either gonna fix it, or die trying."

Thomas shook his head and sighed once again. "Jeff, you were working on that thing for nearly ten hours straight! And the energy surge happened at the _end _of your shift. Why couldn't it have just waited until morning? Or, even better, why couldn't you have just left the job to Sam, you know how good he was with circuitry."

Jeff pouted defensively. "That circuitry panel had a personal vendetta against me!" he complained. "I couldn't just let the station mock me like that! I had to take it down myself."

The doctor chuckled in amusement. "Honestly, Jeff, you make it sound like that hunk of junk had a mind of its own."

"Ah, she wasn't all that bad." Jeff reasoned. "I mean yeah, she required a lot of maintenance, but she's still the most advanced piece of technology around. Especially now that NASA has installed those new communication devices."

"How'd you know about those?" Thomas asked in surprise. Jeff grinned again and shrugged. "The commander at NASA headquarters still likes to keep in touch with some of the the 'old gang', as he likes to call us. Trust me, now that you're part of the gang you'll be receiving monthly updates about everything that's going on. Plus he'll try at every opportunity to convince you to rejoin the programme. He's still trying to get me to take another quarter rotation on-board the station just to show the new junior officers "_how it's done"_. I turn him down every time, of course, but that man's as stubborn as a mule. He doesn't give in that easily."

"Now, who does that remind me of?" Thomas thought out loud, eyeing Jeff with a barely suppressed smirk upon his face.

"Hey!" the other man protested. "I am not _that _stubborn...most of the time."

The two men looked at each other in silence for a few seconds. Then Jeff's lip quirked slightly and he snorted in amusement, which caused Thomas to break into peals of laughter. Very soon, they were both gasping for breath as tears streamed from their eyes. Their sides hurt, their cheeks ached, but their hearts were significantly lighter than they had been earlier that morning. When at last they had regained their dignity, they looked at each other and smiled. It had been far too long since they'd done that.

"Daddy?"

Alan's sleepy croak made Jeff snap back to attention. He swiftly leaned in closer to his son, pushing the light blond bangs away from his forehead. Alan frowned up at him in weary confusion.

"Hey, Allie." Jeff murmured. "How're you feeling?"

Alan grimaced miserably. "M'throat hurts." he complained hoarsely. He pushed the blankets off of his upper-body and grunted in discomfort. "An' s'too hot."

Thomas stepped forward and put his hand to Alan's fevered brow. "Hmm, you do feel kinda warm, kiddo." he remarked. "Why don't we get you another dose of medicine to make you feel a little better?"

Alan nodded glumly, shifting slightly beneath the coverlets as the doctor straightened up and exited the room. The five-year-old gazed up at his father with a pleading expression upon his face.

"Daddy, can I sit up and take the blankets off?" he begged. "It's too hot."

Jeff nodded and helped his youngest son to sit up. Pressing a button on the remote attached to the bed, he caused the top-end of the bed to rise slightly, until it was just over a forty-five degree angle. Plumping up the pillows, he pulled off the covers and allowed Alan to adjust his position until he sat with his back against the fluffy white mountain behind him. The boy sighed in relief as the cool air hit his warm body.

"That any better, son?" Jeff questioned softly. Alan nodded and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Lots better." he replied faintly. Then he moaned slightly and rubbed at his eyes again. "Daddy, my eyes hurt."

Jeff took Alan's hands in his and lowered them back onto the boy's lap. "Don't rub them, Alan. They'll feel better after the medicine. Sometimes when you're sick, it makes your eyes sting a little."

"Oh, okay." the boy muttered wearily.

Alan yawned widely and sat up a little straighter, only to slump back down again as he began to cough, the sudden inhalation of air having tickled his dry throat. Jeff bent him forward slightly and rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles until the hacking had subsided, wearing a pained and worried expression. Words couldn't describe how much he hated it when any of his boys were sick and hurt, but as Alan was the youngest and he so rarely became ill, it always worried Jeff more when he became unwell.

Collapsing back against the pillows, Alan panted for breath and sniffed, his eyes watering.

"Daddy, I don't feel so good." he murmured forlornly. Jeff thought his heart might break at the helpless glance his baby boy sent him, and he immediately wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders in a comforting gesture.

"I know, baby." he said softly. "But you'll be feeling better soon. I promise."

At that moment, the doors opened and Thomas strode into the room, closely followed by another tall figure.

"Scotty!" Alan exclaimed happily, or he would have done had his voice not cracked halfway through the word and swallowed it up word in a harsh cough. Scott's face, tight with worry and concern, appeared beside him in a flash as the teenager swiftly sat down on the edge of the bed, facing his baby brother. Smiling shakily, he reached out a hand and stroked the boy's leg gently.

"Hey, kiddo." he smiled, although his eyes were still full of concern. "You're not feelin' so good, huh?"

Alan shook his head glumly and sniffed again. Scott put a hand to his forehead and frowned worriedly at the fever he felt burning beneath his palm. He cupped Alan's cheek and gently brushed the hot skin with his thumb.

"Don't you worry, Sprout." he said confidently. "We'll have you better in no time at all."

Jeff smiled as Alan relaxed against the pillows and sighed in content. It was quite obvious that the five-year-old trusted Scott's every word, and Jeff was glad to see that his baby boy seemed to be cheering up a little. Reaching out a hand to squeeze Scott's shoulder, Jeff smiled at his eldest son lovingly.

"Morning, son. Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Up until the point when I realised that Alan wasn't there, yes I did, thanks." Scott replied, smiling slightly.

"You didn't get any more shut-eye after you called me, did you?" Jeff questioned, already knowing the answer. Scott had called him less than an hour ago, so it was highly unlikely that he had followed Jeff's instructions about getting another hour or so of sleep.

Scott grinned sheepishly. "In my defence, I did try. But I was just far too awake to totally relax and go back to sleep."

"That's okay, I understand." Jeff said, ruffling the teenager's chocolate-brown hair. Scott's smile widened as he raised a hand and smoothed his hair back down again, clearly overjoyed at how calm and laid-back his father seemed to be after everything that had happened. It was almost as though the accident at the ski resort had never occurred.

"You wanted to talk to me about something, Dad?" Scott asked softly. Jeff nodded his head, trying to ignore the warning glare that Thomas was sending his way.

"Yes, Scotty. We've got quite a lot to discuss, you and I." he replied.

"But," Thomas interjected authoritatively, stepping forward and handing the small plastic measuring cup of Tylenol to Jeff. "The talk can wait until _after_ you've had a decent amount of sleep, can't it Jeff?"

"Tom-" Jeff began, sounding more like a whining child than an adult.

"Nope, you're not gonna win this time." Thomas stated firmly. "Say goodnight to Alan and Gordon, then you and I are going straight to the hotel, got it?"

"But-" Jeff protested.

"No buts." the doctor said sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You either go voluntarily, or I sedate you and drag your sorry butt across to the hotel myself. It's your choice, Jeff."

"It's okay, Dad." Scott assured him, smiling as he thought of the 'tranquiliser gun' that Thomas had mentioned earlier, and wondering if it really did exist. "I'll look after Alan and Gordon. John and Virge were just waking up when I'd finished breakfast, so they should be here over in fifteen minutes or so. Here, you can take my key. Your bag's in the closet at the far end of the room."

Jeff took the hotel key-card that Scott held out to him, slipping it into his pocket with a small smile. "Thanks, son." he said sincerely. Then he sighed in resignation and turned to face Thomas. "Okay fine, you win. I'll come quietly."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "You? Quietly? I highly doubt that."

Jeff just grinned at him before returning his attention to the boy on the bed in front of him. Raising the cup of Tylenol to Alan's lips, he tipped it slightly.

"You know the drill, kiddo." he smiled cheerfully. "Drink it down for me. That's it, there we go."

As Alan swallowed the last of the sticky medicine, he pulled a disgusted face. "Eww." he croaked. Then he smiled slightly and glanced over at Scott. "At least it's not as icky as Scotty's cooking."

Thomas laughed and clapped a blushing Scott on the back. Scott pouted slightly. "Why is it always _my_ cooking they refer to? Besides, I only set fire to the oven once. I'm not _that_ bad."

Jeff chuckled as he leaned in towards Alan and kissed his forehead tenderly. Ruffling the boy's hair, he smiled at him fondly.

"Alright, I'm gonna go and get some rest." he said softly. "Will you be okay until I get back? You'll have Scott and your other brothers with you at all times, so you won't be on your own."

Alan nodded. "Okay, Daddy. You go get lots of sleep." he instructed, croaking slightly. "You need to have sleep, 'cause otherwise you might get sick like me and then Dr. Palmar would hafta look after you too. And Scotty says that you aren't a good patient."

Thomas laughed again as Scott grinned sheepishly at his father "What? It's the truth." the teenager said lightly. "I just told Alan a couple of stories about when you've gotten sick in the past."

Now it was Jeff's turn to blush. He could easily identify the stories that Scott was referring to, and he knew that Thomas could remember them even more vividly than he could. He decided to change the subject before things escalated.

"Behave yourself and listen to your brother, okay?" he said gently, running his fingers through Alan's hair. "And do what the doctors tell you to do. Be a good boy, alright?"

"Okay, Daddy." Alan agreed. Jeff hugged him gently, before standing up and heading over to Gordon's bed.

"You behave yourself, too." he murmured fondly, watching the steady rise and fall of the sleeping boy's chest. "I'll be back soon, Gordy."

He planted a gentle kiss on his copper-haired child's forehead and ran his fingers through the soft locks. Then straightening up, he smiled at Scott and rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

"I'll see you in a few hours, son." he said affectionately. "If you need anything, or if there's something worrying you, ring me on my cell. Is that alright?"

Scott nodded. "Sure thing, Dad."

"Scott?" Thomas piped up, gripping Jeff's arm and beginning to drag him towards the door. "When he said 'a _few hours'_, what he really meant was about six or seven, alright?"

Scott grinned at the annoyed look on his father's face. "Got it, doc."

"It's _Tom_, Scott." the doctor sighed dramatically, before winking at the teenager. "Oh, and before I forget, the nurse will be coming in to do hourly check-ups on both Alan and Gordon. And the doctor should be here in about fifteen minutes or so. He's a great guy, I'm sure you'll get along just fine. He likes the Air-Force."

And with that final comment, Thomas left the room, dragging Jeff forcefully behind him. Scott could not suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips. When Thomas Palmar was in 'doctor' mode, very few people could refuse his orders. Not even Jeff Tracy.

"Scotty?"

Scott turned back towards his baby brother and smiled. "Yeah, buddy?"

Alan looked down at his hands and fiddled with the hem of his pyjamas. "I'm sorry." he whispered.

Scott blinked, surprised. "For what, Allie?"

Sniffing, the boy seemed to grow smaller and smaller as he shrank back against the pillows. "For not doin' what you told me to do. I was bad, Scotty, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone to the beach with Gordy. Now 'cause of me, Gordy's hurt his leg."

Scott tipped Alan's chin up and smiled at him lovingly. "Allie, that wasn't your fault. You didn't break Gordon's leg, he fell. It was just an accident, okay? And accidents do happen. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I should have kept a closer eye on you."

Alan shook his head, his bottom lip trembling slightly as tears brimmed in his eyes. "But if I had done what you said to do, we wouldn't have got lost and then Gordy and me wouldn't be in the hospital. We could be at home and I wouldn't be sick and Gordy wouldn't be hurt like he is now.."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Sprout." Scott stated reassuringly. "It's in the past. But now you know that when I tell you not to do something, it's for a reason, right?"

Alan nodded, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. Then he opened his arms slightly towards his older brother and looked at him with a desperate and pleading expression on his face. Scott didn't hesitate to scoop the small boy up into his arms and settle him upon his lap, holding him comfortingly.

"I was scared, Scotty." Alan whispered, his voice rasping painfully. He hiccoughed and wiped his eyes, sniffing as he tried to stop the tears from falling. "I thought I'd never get to see you again. And I thought you were gonna be mad at me for being bad and runnin' off like that."

Scott wrapped his arms more tightly around the small form and kissed the blond hair gently.

"I'm not mad, Allie." he replied softly. "I was so worried about you. I love you and Gordon very much, and I only make rules so that I can keep you safe from harm. That's why it's very important to listen to me when I make a rule, okay? Otherwise you get hurt, like you did when you ran off into the storm."

Alan nodded. "I'll never be bad again, I promise."

Scott chuckled softly and rubbed Alan's back. "Oh, I think you will." he said fondly. "It's impossible to be good _all_ the time."

"Johnny's never naughty." Alan observed. Scott opened his mouth to contradict that remark, but then closed it again. Alan was right, John never seemed to do _anything_ wrong these days. He never even lost his temper.

"Well, he wasn't always this well-behaved, Sprout." Scott informed the youngest Tracy. "When we were little, he was quite the rebel. He and I used to get into all sorts of trouble when we were growing up."

"Like what?" Alan asked, his eyes as big as saucers. Scott grinned.

"Well, we used to sneak up onto the roof of the house and watch the stars in the winter." he began, almost laughing at the shocked look on his youngest brother's face. "And even though it was really cold, we sometimes forgot to put on our coats and we ended up catching a chill. Dad would always spot us when we were in the process of climbing back down again onto the balcony, and boy would he be mad at us when he realised what we'd been doing."

"But Scotty, you don't even like the stars all that much." Alan commented, frowning slightly.

Scott shook his head. "No, I don't like them as much as Johnny. But because Johnny liked them, I always went with him. Otherwise he'd be up there all on his own, and he might've fallen down and hurt himself."

"Scotty, when we get home can you and me go on the roof and watch the stars?" Alan asked hopefully.

Scott bit his lip, suddenly wishing that he had chosen to tell his brother a different tale. The roof if the villa was slightly dome-shaped so that the rain water could easily run off, and it was certainly _not_ safe to stand upon. Scott was worried that his youngest sibling would now try and copy his actions. _Me and my big mouth._

"Allie, the roof of the villa isn't safe to climb on, okay?" he said slowly and clearly. "You must never try to climb it, or else you'll fall down and hurt yourself. Promise me that you won't try and climb onto it."

"Okay, Scotty, I promise." Alan replied sincerely.

"Good boy." Scott smiled.

Just then, the double doors '_swished'_ open and a motherly-looking nurse with fair hair bustled into the room. She smiled kindly at both Alan and Scott, pushing a small trolley in front of her. Coming to a halt in front of the two boys, she bent down slight and put her hand to Alan's forehead.

"Hi there, sweetie." she said softly. "My name's Jessica. What's yours?"

"Alan Tracy." the five-year-old croaked shyly.

"Alan? That's a great name. I have a boy of my own called Alan." the nurse smiled. Then she glanced up at Scott.

"And who might this be, Alan?" she asked.

"That's my big brother, Scott." Alan informed her, relaxing slightly upon seeing her friendly smile and soft, gentle eyes. "He's the oldest 'cause Mommy and Daddy decided to have him first."

Scott snorted slightly at Alan's explanation, but the nurse managed to keep a straight face. Her eyes, however, were dancing merrily.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Scott." Jessica stated. "You're not sick too, are you?"

"No mam, I'm just here to look after my little brother." Scott grinned. Alan beamed up and him and snuggled contentedly against his chest. Jessica smiled at the cute picture the two Tracy sons created, leaning down towards Alan once more.

"Sweetie, I just need to take your temperature." she said. "Stay nice and still for me, okay?"

Alan nodded, but tightened his grip on Scott's shirt and leaned further into his brother's chest. Scott instinctively placed a comforting hand on the back of Alan's head and cradled him into his body. The nurse smiled at them again and took a thermometer out of a draw on the trolley, humming gently all the while. Placing the tip in Alan's ear, she waited a few seconds until the '_beep' _had sounded, before removing the device and peering at the reading. Entering the information into the electronic data-pad that she had retrieved from the slot at the end of the bed, she momentarily glanced down at her watch.

"The doctor should be along in a few minutes." she remarked cheerfully. "Alan, would you like something to eat for breakfast?"

Alan shook his head. "No thanks." he whispered.

"C'mon, Allie, you've gotta eat a little bit of something." Scott coaxed gently. Alan shook his head again, and gazed up at Scott with tears in his eyes.

"Please, Scotty?" he rasped, a single tear leaking from his eye and rolling down his flushed cheek. "I don't wanna eat. I'm not hungry."

Scott hurriedly tried to calm his baby brother down. "It's okay, kiddo, you don't have to eat if you're not hungry. Don't get upset. It's alright."

Jessica gazed at Alan with a sympathetic expression on her face. "Is your throat still sore, sweetie?" she asked. When Alan nodded and sniffed, she retrieved a box of tissues from the cabinet at the other end of the room and placed them on the bed beside Scott.

"Thank you." Scott smiled gratefully, pulling a tissue from the box and helping Alan to blow his nose and wipe the tears from his face.

"Don't mention it, honey." Jessica replied. Looking at Alan, she cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "Alan, how about some nice cold milk? That'll help to make your throat feel better."

Alan nodded gratefully, and the nurse smiled triumphantly. "Alrighty, then. I'll just go and fetch it. Back in a jiffy."

As Jessica departed, Alan shifted his position on Scott's lap slightly and sighed, before shuddering suddenly and hugging his arms tightly against his chest. Scott noticed this and cupped the small boy's cheek gently.

"Alan, what's the matter? Are you feeling cold?" he asked softly. Alan nodded again, curling into Scott in an attempt to warm himself. "D'you want to get back into bed?" Scott continued. This time, Alan shook his head.

"Wanna stay with you." Alan murmured. Scott smiled at him affectionately and stroked the blond hair beneath his fingers.

"Alan, I'm not gonna be going anywhere." he stated reassuringly. "I'll be sitting by your bed the whole time, okay? C'mon, let's get you back under the covers."

Standing up with Alan in his arms, Scott turned around and carefully set Alan down at the head of the bed, propping him in a sitting position against the pile of pillows. Drawing the the covers up as far as they would go, he sat down on the edge of the mattress and allowed Alan to lean against his side, one of his long arms encircling the smaller Tracy's shoulders.

"See, I'm still here." he smiled. "This isn't so bad, is it?"

After a few minutes, Jessica returned with the small carton of milk. Handing it to Alan with a fond smile, she went to go and check on the monitors above Gordon's bed. As she inserted the tip of the thermometer into the red-head's ear, he stirred and grunted slightly, as if beginning to wake up. However, once the thermometer had been withdrawn, he merely shifted beneath the coverlets and sighed, falling into a deeper slumber.

Scott sighed in disappointment as Jessica moved to the end of Gordon's bed to jot down his vitals. He had really wanted his younger brother to wake up, so that he could look into those care-free green eyes and hear the innocent laughter once more. But Scott knew that Gordon needed his rest. The longer he slept, the quicker he could get better, and the faster Scott and his family could leave the hospital and return home as a family. As a _real_ family. And maybe, just maybe, Scott could persuade their father to take a couple of days off work so that they could spend some quality time together.

Pushing the straw into the carton of milk, Scott handed it back to Alan and encouraged him to take a sip. Hesitantly, the young boy began to drink, and soon his pained expression relaxed as the cold beverage soothed his raw throat. Scott smiled over at Jessica, who had paused on her way out of the room, and mouthed a _'Thank you'_. She nodded her head and waved goodbye, before swiftly departing off to her other duties.

Scott sat contentedly watching his two brothers. He gazed over at Gordon and watched the way that he twitched slightly beneath the blankets, or the way that he occasionally let out a huge sigh. They were all typical Gordon characteristics; he had never been able to stay still for more than a minute whilst he was asleep. Glancing down at Alan, Scott couldn't help but smile. The boy was happily sipping at his milk, leaning against Scott's side with the assurity that he was perfectly safe as long as his big brother was there. Scott had never felt more at peace.

Another _'swish'_ caused him to look towards the doorway, where two familiar figures were entering the room. Alan immediately sat up straighter and smiled. A tall blond-haired teenager hurried forward to the other side of Alan's bed, perching on that side of the mattress and pulling Alan into a gentle one-armed hug.

"Hey, Sprout." he smiled. "How're you feeling?"

Alan snuggled back against his pillows as John draped an arm across Scott's around his shoulders. He smiled at both of his brothers.

"A bit better." he rasped weakly. Then he winced and rubbed his forehead. "Except my head is hurtin' more than before."

"It is?" asked Scott worriedly. Alan nodded and sagged against his brother's side, as the two older Tracy sons exchanged concerned glances over the top of his head.

Virgil, who had been looking at the electronic data-pad at the end of the bed, looked up with a worried expression upon his face. "Scott, his fever is really high. Do you think that maybe the Tylenol isn't working or something?"

"How high is it?" John asked.

"102.4 degrees." Virgil read. "It's gone up since last night, according to this. Does that mean he's getting worse, d'you think?"

"Dunno, Virge." John replied, looking down at Alan and running the back of his hand down the warm cheek. "We'll have to ask the doctor."

"Somebody wants to ask me something?"

The four Tracy children who were awake looked towards the door. A young doctor with jet-black hair and twinkling eyes stood in the doorway, smiling at the occupents of the room with a friendly expression.

"Hey guys, I'm Dr. Andrew Myers." he began, stepping up to the foot of the bed. "But I hate formal titles, so please just call me 'Andy'."

Approaching Scott's side of the bed, he reached into his white-coat pocket and took out a penlight. Smiling encouragingly at the five-year-old, he showed him the device in his hand.

"Hi, Alan. This is just a little penlight, see?" he said, flashing it against his hand to prove the point. "I'm gonna shine it into your mouth so that I can take a look at your throat, okay?"

Alan nodded and obediently opened his mouth so that the doctor could shine the penlight at the back of his throat. After a few moments, Andy released his chin gently and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good job, buddy." he congratulated, slipping the light back into his pocket. Then, reaching into the pocket on the other side of the coat, he took out a second device. "Now, this is just a special little contraption to help me see inside your ears." he explained gently, showing it to the five-year-old. "It might feel a little bit weird, but it's not gonna hurt at all, okay?"

Alan swallowed painfully, eyeing the strange instrument warily, before nodding his again slowly. Andy beamed. "Good man. Alright, just try and keep your head nice and still for me, Alan."

As he inserted the tip of the device into Alan's ear, the boy cringed uncomfortably and shifted slightly. Both Scott and John moved to place reassuring hands on his arms as the doctor murmured soothingly.

"Nearly done, kid. You're doing just great." he stated, as he removed the device and took Alan's chin in his hand again. "Okay, turn your head for me. No, no, buddy, the other way. That's the ticket. Okay, hold still a sec, pal."

After a few moments, the offending item was returned to it's home within the doctor's pocket. Andy straightened up and went to the end of the bed to collect the electronic pad - only to find that it was no longer there. Blushing slightly, Virgil stepped around from John's side of the bed and handed it sheepishly to the doctor. Andy grinned at him as he began to make notes upon the device.

"It's not often I see a kid your age reading medical notes." he stated. "Did you understand any of it?"

Virgil nodded shyly. "Some of it." he admitted. "I was only wanting to know if it was serious enough to need antibiotics, or if he could just ride it out on Tylenol. But as long as it doesn't progress to pneumonia or anything like that, he should be okay, right?"

Andy gazed at the young Tracy in surprise. "Wow, you sure seem to know a lot about medicine." he remarked. Virgil shrugged.

"Not really." he replied. "It's just what it said on the pad."

"Yeah, but you actually understood it." Andy smiled. "It's not often I see a kid who _understands_ medical notes, either. What's you name, pal?"

"Virgil." the brown-haired boy replied.

"And how old are you, Virgil?" the doctor inquired.

"Twelve." Virgil said, rubing the back of his neck shyly. "But only just. I don't turn thirteen for another eleven months."

Andy handed the pad back to him and winked. "Tell me, Virgil, have you ever thought of becoming a doctor?"

Virgil shrugged again. "I don't know yet. I enjoy taking care of my brothers when they're sick, but I'm not sure if I'd be as good with other patients that I've never met before."

Scott chuckled fondly. "Oh Virge, don't be so modest. I'm sure you'd be just great if you were -"

_'THUNK'_

Five heads swiveled around in surprise and worry towards the other patient in the room, who had been momentarily forgotten during Alan's examination. Immediately, John and Scott shot to their feet. For there - upon the floor beside the other bed - lay Gordon.

* * *

**_What is wrong with Gordon? Did the fall cause any serious damage? And how will the older brothers react? What will Jeff say when he finds out? Who is the shifty janitor with the video camera and, more importantly, what is he doing in the corridor outside of Alan and Gordon's room? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_You heard it folks, it's a miracle! Two chapters in two days! I guess I just felt sorry for leaving you all for almost five days without an update. Although this chapter was a lot longer than I first intended it to be, so I guess that makes up for the long wait. I hope it didn't bore you, I just thought I'd expand upon the brothers' relationships whilst they're still so young and adorable. Of course, the next chapter has more Tom, more Jeff, more brotherly fluff, more playful banter, and just a teeny weeny hint of - wait for it - VIOLENCE! Oh yeah, bring it on._**

**_Okay, all done for today. PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your helpful comments and concrit, you know how much I love to hear from you!_**

**_See you later, my friends!_**

**_x x x x x x x_**


	18. Chapter 17: The Man With The Mop

**_It's another chapter! Hurray! Thank you all for reviewing my last chapter, the comments were really encouraging. And I'm glad that everybody seems to love Thomas Palmar's character. By popular demand, I have already written him into three possible future stories._**

**_Now, prepare yorself for more fun, fluff and fear in the next exciting chapter! (I hope)_**

**_

* * *

_**

Scott's heart seemed jump up half a mile within his chest as his eyes fell upon the copper-haired boy on the floor.

"Gordon!" he cried worriedly, darting forwards and falling to his knees beside his younger brother. He vaguely registered John and Andy crouching down beside him as his eyes quickly scanned the body in front of him for any obvious injuries that he may have sustained in the fall. Gordon lay face-down upon the ground, so Scott could not see the front half of his body. But there were no pools of blood, so he clearly had managed to avoid cracking his head open on the floor. _Well at least that's something._

"Gordon?" Dr. Myers called, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

"Whoops." came the mumbled reply. Scott felt relief washing over him at the sound of his brother's voice. Gordon began pushing himself up on his good arm, only to be halted when Andy strengthened his grip and held him down gently.

"Don't try to move just yet, pal." he instructed softly. "I need to make sure you haven't hurt yourself."

"I'm fine." Gordon insisted. "I haven't broken my other leg, don't worry."

Scott found himself grinning at Gordon's cheerful remark. He had his little brother back again. He glanced over at the doctor for instructions as to what to do, wondering if the young man would allow Gordon to move. Andy looked hesitant, but then sighed in resignation.

"Alright, kid, let's get you back into bed." he said calmly. He looked up at Scott. "You're the eldest, aren't you? It's Scott, right?"

Scott nodded, wondering how the doctor knew considering the fact that they hadn't been properly introduced to each other yet. Andy seemed to read his mind, and grinned apologetically.

"Your friend Thomas Palmar was giving me the low-down on the situation." he explained. "He ended up talking more about you boys than about Gordon and Alan's conditions. Although, to be honest, quite a lot of people would be able to identify you if they kept up-to-date with the news. You'll be surprised what you can learn if you read the tabloids. This morning's news headlines were all about how an 'unknown epodemic' has landed all of the Tracy boys in hospital."

John snorted in amusement. "Who comes up with this rubbish?"

Andy shrugged. "Dunno. A bunch of obsessed jerks without lives of their own, most likely. But don't worry, security in this hospital is usually pretty tight. I'll make sure the reporters don't bother you. I hate them as much as you guys must do."

Scott grinned at him. Dr. Palmar had been right, Andy sure was a great guy. _And he said that Andy liked planes. I'm gonna have to ask him about that later. But at least we know he's on our side when it comes to the press._

"Um - hello? Scotty? Can I get up now, please?"

Scott suddenly remembered that his little brother was still on the floor in front of him. Feeling vaguely guilty about forgetting that fact, he helped Andy to carefully flip the boy over and lift him back onto the bed.

"Alright, let's see what damage was done." Andy smiled, moving down to check the plaster cast. John picked the fallen pillows up off the floor and handed them to the doctor so that he could prop the boy's leg up once more.

"How're you feeling, Gordo?" Virgil asked timidly. He had been standing worriedly behind Scott the whole time, having to hold Alan down on the bed in order to stop him from running over to their fallen brother.

Gordon shrugged and winced, glancing down at his arm and raising an eyebrow at the sling he saw there. Then he hissed slightly in pain as Andy, in the process of examining Gordon's ribcage, pressed down on a bruise he had sustained the night before.

"Sorry." the doctor apologised gently, pulling Gordon's pyjama top back down again. "Those bruises are gonna be a little sore for a few days. But don't worry, they'll fade eventually."

"Could - could I sit up, please?" Gordon asked hesitantly. Andy smiled and nodded.

"Sure thing, pal. Hold on a sec." Pressing the correct button on the remote, the top-end of the bed began to rise as Alan's had done earlier on that morning. When it was at a comfortable angle, he set the remote back down beside the bed and took out his penlight.

"Follow my finger with your eyes for me, Gordon." he instructed softly, flashing the light in the boy's eyes as he moved his index finger from side to side. After a moment, he smiled. "That all seems fine. Are you sure you didn't hit your head at all?"

Gordon shook his head. "No, I just lost my balance when I stood up. I - I kinda forgot that I couldn't stand up with the cast on."

Scott rolled his eyes, but he was smiling fondly. He perched on the edge of the bed and put an arm around Gordon's shoulders, hugging him gently. Gordon looked up at him and smiled, leaning his head on his older brother's chest.

"And _why_ exactly were you trying to stand up, kiddo?" Scott inquired lightly. Gordon blushed and looked away.

"I just wanted to go to the bathroom." he mumbled. Scott and John chuckled, shaking their heads.

"Well, next time just ask one of us to help you, okay?" John smiled. "It'll save you falling on your face again."

Gordon grinned and saluted with his good arm. "Yes, sir!"

Andy chuckled and took a penlight out of his pocket. Lifting Gordon's chin up a little, he withdrew the hand and raised the index finger. "Follow my finger with your eyes, but try and keep your head still for me, okay?" he instructed gently, moving the finger from left to right.

Lowering the light, he dropped his finger and felt the sides of Gordon's neck gently. "How does your throat feel this morning?" he asked.

Gordon swallowed slightly and winced, before shrugging it off and plastering a smile onto his face. "S'okay."

Andy raised an eyebrow, and Gordon blushed a little, before looking down and sighing in resignation. "Okay, so maybe it hurts a little bit." he admitted. "But not as much as it did before."

The doctor nodded and took Gordon's chin in his hand again. "Open up a sec, buddy. I just wanna take a little look at the back of your throat."

After a few seconds, he lowered the light again and smiled. "It looks like it's getting better." he remarked. "As long as you keep taking the Tylenol to reduce your fever, you should be as right as rain in a couple of days."

Scott sighed in relief and gave Gordon a squeeze. "That's good news huh, buddy?"

Gordon merely sighed and leaned against him, looking miserable. Scott's smile shifted into a frown of concern. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong, kiddo?"

Gordon looked up at him and sighed again. "I'm not gonna be able to go swimmin', am I?" he mumbled.

Scott sent his younger brother a sympathetic glance. "Not for a little while, Gordon."

"Only six weeks." Virgil piped up from the other end of the bed, where he sat reading the notes on the data-pad. "Apparently they used some sort of laser-thingamy-whatsit to speed up the cell regeneration."

John, Scott and Andy all blinked in response as the twelve-year-old scrolled down and smiled. "Well that's better than what it would have been before, Gordon. It says that the usual amount of time for a break like yours to be in a cast is ten to thirteen weeks. And you only have to wear it for six. That's good, right?"

He glanced up from the pad, smiling, only to frown slightly when he noticed that everyone was staring at him. "What?"

Andy shook his head. "Kid, you're gonna go far if you keep this up." he smiled. "I couldn't have explained it better myself. You've just managed to condense four pages of surgical notes into one small paragraph."

Virgil shrugged. "I'm just saying what they put in the notes, but not all of it 'cause I can't pronounce all of the words properly."

Andy grinned and turned to Scott. "Can I please employ your brother as my assistant?" he asked. "It'll save me a heck of a lot of bother in reading all the medical jargon that the surgeons write."

Scott returned the grin with one of his own. "Be my guest, we don't need him."

Virgil shot a mock-glare in his direction, but grinned when Scott winked at him. Looking up at Andy, he composed his facial features into a calm expression.

"When do I start?" he asked. Andy laughed and clapped him gently on the shoulder.

"Maybe in a couple of years, kid." he said, his eyes twinkling. "When you're tall enough to reach the patients."

Virgil pretended to look outraged, but gave up and chuckled with the rest of his brothers. He didn't mind the mock-insult, as he was in the middle of his growth spurt and was actually considered to be pretty tall for his age group.

"Hi Gordy!"

A blond head popped up beside Scott and grinned at his copper-haired brother. Gordon smiled back.

"Hey, Allie. Are you feeling okay?" he asked, noticing the flushed cheeks and slightly bloodshot eyes.

"My throat hurts." Alan croaked, frowning slightly. "And my head is sore, and it's too hot in here. But my knees feel better now. Is your leg better yet?"

Scott scooped Alan up and settled him on his lap so that the two boys could talk with greater ease. Out of the corner of his eyes, Scott could see John gazing at youngest Tracy sons with an indulgent smile upon his face.

"I'm gonna hafta keep it in a cast for ages and ages, but it doesn't hurt too much any more." Gordon commented. Then he frowned and glanced down at Alan's legs, which were not visible beneath the cotton of his pyjamas. "What did you do to your knees, anyway?"

"Oh, I fell down when I was runnin' up the path like you said to do. I think I tripped on a stick or a rock or something, but anyway, I hurt my knees real bad and Virge and Daddy and Scotty made them feel better."

Scott smiled at his baby brother and looped an arm around his middle, hugging him gently. Alan sighed deeply as he leaned against his big brother's chest, only to press a had over his mouth and lean forwards again as tickle in his throat made him cough loudly. Gordon instinctively reached out with his good arm and rubbed Alan's back, not stopping until the tickle had subsided and Alan's breathing had returned to normal. Virgil stood up and retrieved a tissue from the box on Alan's bed, handing it to Scott so that the eldest sibling could dry Alan's tear-streaked face and help him blow his nose.

Andy, who had been watching the brothers as they comforted one another with their small actions, stepped forward and unhooked the stethoscope from around his neck. He didn't think that there was anything wrong, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

"Can I just listen to you chest for a moment, buddy?" he asked softly, putting the device in his ears and warming up the metal end with his hand. Lifting up Alan's shirt, he slid the dome underneath and placed it against the warm skin of Alan's back. The five-year-old jumped slightly and shivered.

"Sorry, kiddo, I know it's a bit cold." Andy apologised. "Can you take a deep breath for me? That's it. And another one?"

Moving the dome around, the doctor listened to Alan's chest intently. After a few minutes, he removed the cold metal from Alan's skin and smiled.

"Is everything alright?" Scott asked worriedly. Andy nodded and slung the stethoscope around his neck once more.

"His lungs are just fine, there's nothing to worry about." he assured them. "He's just got a bit of a dry cough, that's all. Perfectly normal."

Scott visibly relaxed and rested his chin atop Alan's head. Smiling, the doctor sighed and glanced down at his watch. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and straightened up slightly, fiddling with the end of his stethoscope.

"Sorry, guys, duty calls." he stated. "I've gotta go check on my other patients and finish of my rounds. I'll be back to check on you in about three or four hours, alright? Until then, if you need anything, just press the call button and Jessica or Cassie will be able to help you. Jess will be here in a little while, anyway, just to make sure you're not in need of anything. Okay, I think that's my little speech over and done with. Any questions?"

Grinning, Gordon raised his hand in the air slightly. Andy smiled at him. "Yes Gordon?"

"Can I go to the bathroom now?"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Virgil hummed merrily as he stepped into the lift, cradling the three cans of soda and the packets of M&Ms that he had bought from the vending machines in the main foyer downstairs. As the high-pitched _'ping'_ resounded, signalling that the lift had arrived on his floor, he hopped out of the lift and scurried off down another corridor.

"Second left, up the stairs, turn right, last room." he murmured to himself as he made his way past various members of the hospital staff. "Second left, up the stairs, turn right, last- Aha! Second left!"

Taking the corridor that branched off to the left, he grew a little more confident. He was usually very good with directions, but there were quite a few to remember this time and he had been worried that he would get lost. However, with this small victory accomplished, he felt a little less concerned about whether or not he was headed in the right direction.

His happiness increased all the more when he reached 'the stairs', and he swiftly ascended them, although he was careful not to drop the load he carried in his arms. As he reached the top of the stairs, he paused momentarily and glanced at the clock on the wall in front of him.

_Twelve-thirty? Wow, I've been a long time. I guess I must have gotten more lost than I thought when I was trying to find the reception desk. Uh-oh, Scotty's gonna be worrying his butt off. He didn't want me to go in the first place, and he only let me 'cause I said that I was old enough not to get myself lost - which I did. But it's not my fault! They don't have enough signs in this place!_

Sighing at the thought of confronting his concerned older brother, Virgil turned right at the top of the stairs and pushed through a double set of doors. Smiling, he immediately recognised it to be the corridor in which he would find his brothers' hospital room. Adjusting his hold on the items in his arms, he side-stepped a yellow sign that read '_Warning, Wet Surface'_ and began to head off towards the far end of the corridor.

"Excuse me?"

Virgil stopped and turned around, spotting the voice's owner. A man wearing dark blue scrubs stood leaning against the wall nearby, a mop in his hand. As Virgil watched, he straightened up and smiled, walking towards him.

"Hello there." he said, coming to a halt a few feet away from Virgil and leaning on his mop.

"Hello, sir." Virgil replied politely. "Can I help you?"

The man ran a hand casually through his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck, then fiddled with the collar of his uniform, before clenching the hand tightly around his mop handle once more. It seemed to Virgil that he didn't quite know what to do with it.

"I was just wondering, are you related to Jeff Tracy in any way?" he asked casually. A warning bell began to sound at the back of Virgil's mind, but he kept his face relaxed and answered politely;

"Why d'you ask, sir? Do you know him?"

The man nodded, a vaguely thoughtful look passing over his face as his eyes scrutinised Virgil's facial features. "Um - yes, yes I did. I've spoken to him on several occasions, actually. I'm a good friend of his, in a way. I'm Robert Crawford."

Virgil, slightly unnerved by the man's piercing stare, opened his mouth and spoke before he had even thought about the consequences. "Funny, my dad's never mentiond you before."

The man's eyes lit up. "Ah, so you're one of Jeff's sons! I thought I recognised your face."

Virgil clamped his mouth shut. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why'd I go and say a dumb thing like that? Scott always tells me never to let people know that I'm a Tracy if they start asking questions about Dad. But this guy is seriously creeping me out. And why is he staring at me like that?_

"Virgil Tracy." the man said, a note of pride in his voice. "Am I right?"

"I - um - well, I-" Virgil stuttered, taken by surprise. The janitor chuckled, although the smile did not reach his eyes.

"Process of elimination, Virgil Tracy." he explained. "There are only three brown-haired members of your family. You, your father, and your brother Scott. Now, as I know Scott to be the eldest child, it only makes sense that you must be Virgil Tracy. Unless you are your father in disguise."

The man laughed at his own joke, his hand moving up to rub his chin as he stepped forward towards Virgil. The twelve-year-old immediately took a step back, the warning bells now flaring up into loud klaxons. He could hear Scott's voice as it filtered through his mind, replaying the words the eldest Tracy son had said to them earlier on in the hospital room;

_"Okay, guys, you know the drill when we're in a hospital. If you're on your own and some random person starts asking questions about our personal life, excuse yourself politely and hurry back here. Even if it's a member of the hospital staff, always make sure that you can see a badge or some sort of hospital ID card that will be pinned to their clothes. If they are asking general questions, then that's fine. But if they start asking questions about Dad's business or about the accident last year, again just excuse yourself and walk away, alright? If they are a member of hospital staff and they **don't** have an ID badge, and they are asking questions about Dad's business, I want you to go to the nearest security officer and tell them. It's just a precaution, but it wouldn't be the first time that somebody's impersonated a doctor or nurse in an attempt to snap some photos of us in the hospital. They did that at Alan's birth, too. So that's why you have to be careful who you talk to. And, more importantly, you gotta come straight back here and tell Dad or myself about what happened, alright? You promise?"_

As his brothers had done, Virgil had promised Scott that he would follow his instructions. _Except that I've already gone and told the guy that I'm Jeff Tracy's son. Hmm, I'm not very good at this. John's always been the best at making up excuses, I just never know what to say._

"Kid?"

Virgil snapped out of his own thoughts when a hand touched his shoulder. He jumped backwards in surprise and eyes the janitor warily. He was still smiling in a 'friendly' manner, but there was also something distinctly unnerving about him that Virgil couldn't quite put his finger on.

"So, how's your dad been doin', anyway?" the man asked, resting his chin atop his hand as he leaned on his broom handle. "Say, hasn't he got a conference or something coming up? I'm sure I heard him mention something about a business conference between - who was it? - Ah yes, between himself and the 'Salenti Electronics Company'. So do you know what decision he's come to? Has he said anything to you about it? Does he know if he wants to continue with the conference now that his family is in the hospital? And tell me, what illness is ailing the rest of your family? Your father is yet to make a statement - oh, um - I mean, he hasn't told me yet."

Virgil was now one hundred percent certain that this guy was bad news. Deciding to end this conversation sooner rather than later, he tightened his grip around the items in his arms and pretended to glance down at his watch.

"Oh, is that the time?" he said, rather unsubtly. "Sorry, I gotta get going. Bye!"

As he spun around on the spot and darted off down the corridor, he began mentally slapping himself for all the mistakes he's made in the space of five minutes. _Idiot! Rule one is never to let the guy know that I'm a Tracy. So what do I go and do? I practically introduce myself! And there's definitely something not quite right with him. He's weird. I'd better tell Scott about him._

Straining slightly, he manged to press the button on the side of the door with his little finger - that being the only finger than he could spare, as his hands were cluching the cans of soda. As he stepped into the room and heard the doors close behind him, he finally managed to take in a deep, calming breath.

"Virgil!"

Looking up, he saw Scott jump to his feet and hurry over to him, his face the image of worry. "Where were you?" he demanded. "You've been gone for ages!"

Depositing his load onto an empty chair, Virgil smiled up at his older brother sheepishly. "Sorry, I kinda got lost on my way down."

Scott sighed, the stress and tension beginning to leave his body. Smiling slightly, he slung an arm around Virgil's shoulders and looked at the soda and M&Ms with approval.

"Nice choice." he remarked. "I knew I could count on you."

"Well I know they're _your_ favourite type of candy." Virgil said. "But what about John? He likes M&Ms, right?"

Scott looked at him and smirked slightly. "Virgil, they contain chocolate, of course he likes them."

Virgil chuckled and grabbed two of the small bags, heading over towards Gordon's bed where Alan and the copper-haired boy were sitting. Extending a bag to each of them, he smiled.

"I asked Andy when I saw him at reception, and he said that it's okay for you two to have these." he stated, smiling as his younger brother's eyes lit up.

"Thanks, Virge!" Gordon grinned, taking the bag eagerly and opening it. Alan smiled as well, but simply looked at the bag in his hands. Scott came up behind Virgil and regarded Alan with a worried expression.

"What's the matter, Sprout?" he asked. "Do you want me to open the bag for you?"

Alan looked up at him, indecision written across his face. "Can - can I save 'em for later?" he asked quietly, as if this were a very difficult thing to ask of someone.

"Sure thing, Allie." Scott smiled. Alan handed the bag back to him, and he went to put it in the small cabinet beside Alan's bed, which contained his overnight clothes. "See? Now John can't eat them if he gets hungry."

Alan giggled, before breaking off with a huge yawn. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he slumped against Gordon's pillow and sighed.

"M'sleepy." he mumbled. Gordon shuffled sideways to give his little brother more room.

"He can sleep on my bed if he wants." he offered cheerfully. Scott smiled, but shook his head.

"We might wake him up if he stays on your bed." he explained, stepping up to the bedside and gently sitting his baby brother up. "C'mon, kiddo. Why don't you take a nap until Dad and Tom get back, hmm?"

Nodding sleepily, Alan stood up and walked slowly towards his own bed. Scott pulled back the covers and lowered the top-end of the bed so that it was flat once more. Alan heaved himself up onto the mattress, sighing as Scott pulled the covers back over him. Scott kissed his forehead lightly and smiled at him.

"Sleep well, kiddo." he murmured, and Alan's eyes drifted closed. Virgil smiled at the sight, opening up a packet of M&Ms and popping a few into his mouth. Thinking hard, he looked around in an attempt to find a suitable distraction for Gordon whilst he spoke to Scott.

"Hey, Gordo." he smiled, perching on the edge of the bed. "Do you want me to show you how the TV works?"

Gordon nodded enthusiastically, and Virgil reached up to swing the screen downwards towards them. It was about the size of a computer screen, attached to an extendable arm and connected to a power converter on the wall. It also had a small keyboard that could be opened up in the patient wanted to use the Internet. Handing his brother the earphones, he switched the power to 'ON' and showed his younger brother how to find the kids channels. There was a large selection to choose from, and Gordon finally settled on an channel showing a selection of cartoon classics.

Satisfied that his plan had worked, Virgil glanced over to where his eldest brother was tenderly running his fingers through a sleeping Alan's blond hair. Standing up, the middle Tracy son approached the other bed and smiled momentarily at how adorable his baby brother looked when asleep. _Major contrast with the brat he can be when he's really cranky._

Frowning at himself for being so hard on Alan, he gently poked Scott in the shoulder. "Scotty?"

Scott turned towards him woth a worried expression. "Something's worrying you, isn't it Virge? What's the matter?"

Virgil blinked. _Man, he's good. I swear he can read minds. That's creepy. Maybe I should study **him** for my science project next year. He's far more interesting than a bunch of stupid crabs._

Sighing, Virgil dragged Scott by the arm to the other side of the room, wanting to make sure they were out or earshot. Scott gave him a look, and any thoughts about beating around the bush were immediately forgotten. Taking a deep breath, he glanced nervously at the door, as though expecting the janitor to walk in and start questioning him again.

"There was this - this guy - out in the corridor." he began hesitantly. "He was kinda creepy."

Scott's face became exceedingly worried. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

Virgil shook his head. "I'm fine, Scotty. It's just - he kept asking all sorts of questions about Dad and the business and some sort of conference Dad's going on. And Scotty, he knew who I was! He worked it out just by my hair colour! I think - I think he might be a reporter or something."

Scott's face darkened significantly. "What did he look like?" he asked stiffly.

Virgil swallowed and shrugged. "I dunno. He was in a janitor's uniform, if that helps any. He was kinda Dad's height, but skinnier. And he had your hair colour."

Scott said nothing, but turned around and stalked towards the door. Pressing the button to open it, he stepped out into the corridor, nearly colliding with John who was just about to enter the room.

"Whoa!" John exclaimed, dropping a packet of sandwiches onto the floor from the small selection in his arms. "What's with the rush, Scooter?"

Scott looked up and down the corridor, frowning slightly. "Virge, are you sure he was out here? 'cause he's not here now." he called over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Virgil frowned in confusion as he stepped out to join his brothers and noticed the empty corridor. "But - but he was here less than ten minutes ago! Where did he go?"

"Where did who go?" John asked, glancing between Scott and Virgil.

"Are you sure it was here that you saw him?" Scott asked, looking at his younger brother steadily.

"Saw who?" John asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Virgil said in exasperation. "He was _right here_ just before I walked into the room."

"Who was here?!" John cried, becoming slightly impatient.

"Virgil says he saw a shifty janitor around here earlier on." Scitt explained. "He started asking Virgil questions about Dad's business. But he's not here now. Virge, are you _absolutely positive_ that he was in this corridor?"

"Yes!" Virgil growled back, becoming even more frustrated. Then he noticed John's frown and paused. "John? What is it?"

"Did you say 'shifty janitor'?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Yes. Why?" Virgil inquired, noticing the way that John's frown seemed to be deepening by the second.

Wordlessly, John pressed the button beside the doors and entered the room, depositing the sandwiches onto the same chair as the soda and chocolate. Scott and Virgil, who had remained in the corridor, frowning, then found themselves being dragged by their wrists back into the hospital room.

"John?" Scott asked, now seeing the frown for the first time. "What's wrong."

John cleared his throat and raked a hand through his hair. "I saw a janitors trolley - or whatever you call those things - at the bottom of the flight of stais down the corridor."

"So?" Scott persisted. "There's gotta be dozens of janitors in this place, it's huge. It doesn't mean that it belongs to the same guy Virge saw."

John shook his head. "It didn't click at first, I just found it odd, but it all makes sense now." he paused thoughtfully, and Scott grew impatient.

"What?" he urged, knowing that his clever younger brother had a bad habit of drifting off into his own thoughts if he wasn't poked every now and then.

"Well, I happened to have dropped one of the sandwich boxes near the trolley when I was heading towards the stairs. "John continued. "And as I bent down to pick it up, I noticed that there was something odd on one of the shelves."

"What?" Virgil asked breathlessly. John looked up at Scott, before dropping his gaze to the floor.

"A camera." he murmured softly, waiting for the volcano to erupt.

Scott growled deep in his throat, clenching his hands into tight fists. "So we have a reporter dressed as a janitor who's managed to get past security and has actually been outside in the corridor for goodness knows how long?" he remarked, more to himself than to his brothers. He laughed slightly. "I bet he thinks he's got us all fooled. Bet he's real pleased about being able to take a few exclusive photos of the Tracy family. Well, he's not gonna find it so easy getting past me. I'm sick and tired of the press trying to pry into our personal lives! Ever since the accident, they've been like a flock of gulls. They never leave us alone, and I've had enough of it! Mark my words, this guy is gonna regret trying to spy on us."

John and Virgil exchanged half amused, half worried glances. To say that Scott liked to retain the family's privacy was a definite understatement. The two brothers had both heard the unspoken words, and it brought a small smile to each of their faces;

_"Nobody messes with **my **family and gets away with it."_

* * *

**_What will their father say when he hears about this disguised reporter? Will Scott, Jeff and Tom manage to identify the 'janitor', or will he succeed in snapping a few shots of the Tracy boys without them noticing? And when Andy comfronts the culprit, what will he do? Find out in the next installment!_**

**_Okay, big apologies. First off - no, there was no violence. My bad, I didn't judge the length of the chapters correctly. The next chapter will contain that part of the story. Sorry to disappoint._**

**_Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it. I will be posting the next chapter later this week, if possible. If not, it will be out on Friday. Until then, have a terrific week!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you thought about this chapter, you know how much I appreciate your helpful feedback! I'll see you again in a few days!_**

**_x x x x x_**


	19. Chapter 18: Forest Fires and Fries

**Yippee, new update! **

**Thanks again for the helpful reviews and comments, I'm glad to know that you're not all getting bored of my stories. In fact, it appears to be quite the opposite! That makes me happy! ('grins')**

**You've all been wonderfully patient, so yet another longchapter is heading your way. Actually, it would have been long even if you had been terribly impatient. I just can't stop typing once I get started! You guys can understand the feeling, right? Oh, and judging on how it is going at the moment, I may have misjudged lengths again. The violent scene may have to be in the next chapter. Ooops, don't hate me please!**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! x x x x**

* * *

Jeff ran his free hand over his jaw as he brushed his teeth. It was nice to feel smooth skin again, and not the scratchy stubble that had been there as a result of going almost thirty hours without shaving. He didn't know why, but stubble always seemed to grown faster on his face than it did on the chin of any other male who resided upon the earth. Or maybe Jeff just saw it that way because he hated stubble so much. So had Lucy. She had always loved the type of razors that he used, because they left his skin feeling '_baby smooth', _as she had liked to call it. Thomas had once teased him incessantly about his '_baby smooth' _skin, but all jokes concerning that matter had been avoided after the accident at the ski resort. And, however much Jeff surprised himself in admitting to it, he really did miss Thomas' playfully insulting comments. They had been one of the many things that had always caused Jeff to regard Thomas as his brother, in every way but blood.

Pulling on a pair of jeans and a casual shirt, Jeff glanced at himself in the full-length mirror on the far wall. Turning sideways, he frowned slightly. Although his arms, legs and chest remained as muscular as they had been during his early twenties (mainly due to the strict exercise regime that Jeff had forced himself to follow every morning since Lucy's death), he noticed that he had lost quite a lot of weight from around his midriff. Not that he was complaining, the new figure made him look rather good, but it was also a reminder of the family meals Jeff had sacrificed in his desperate attempt to _'just get these papers finished_' or _'just finalise this agreement'. _In fact, Jeff mused as his stomach grumbled loudly, it had been over twenty-four hours since he had last eaten. No wonder he was feeling so tired.

Slipping the hotel key-card into his pocket, Jeff picked up his wallet and cell phones as he headed towards the door. Switching on his work cell, he blinked in surprise at the small icon that popped up immediately onto the screen.

_Nineteen missed calls? That many? I wonder who's been trying to contact me...- Oh darn. They're all from Mr. Salenti's head office. I completely forgot about the conference being held tomorrow! In fact, I was supposed to be meeting Salenti today so that we could go over some of the finer points of the business transaction before the conference took place. Oops. I'd better call him back and apologise for my absence._

Glancing down at his watch briefly, Jeff frowned. It was already past two o'clock in the afternoon, which meant that he'd been away from his sons for almost six hours. Shaking his head, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and opened the door. Smiling to himself, Jeff began to walk down the corridor. _Salenti can wait until after I've seen my boys. From now on it's family first, business later._

"Jeff!"

The Tracy patriarch came to a halt, spinning around and grinning. "Hey, Tom." he greeted, spotting his friend sitting in a chair near the end of the corridor. He frowned slightly as Thomas walked towards him. "Hang on a sec, your room's on the fourth floor. What are you doing here?"

The doctor merely smiled and clapped Jeff on the shoulder. "Waiting for you, of course."

As they began to make their way towards the lift, Jeff's frown deepened. "And how long have you been 'waiting'?" he asked, eyeing his friend with slight disbelief. Thomas glanced down at his watch.

"Five minutes, give or take." he replied lightly, waiting until Jeff had entered the lift before pressing the button that would take them to the ground floor. "I knew that you'd be getting up around about now, so I thought that I'd stay here a little bit longer and make sure that you actually _ate_ something."

"I would have eaten something!" Jeff replied defensively, although he knew he was lying through his teeth. He had planned to go straight to the hospital and perhaps grab a coffee and a sandwich once he had seen his boys.

Thomas raised his eyebrows and gave Jeff 'the look'. It was the same look that Jeff had been subjected to countless times in the past, particularly when he had been injured or sick and was trying to hide it from his old friend. It clearly said _"Don't even try to kid me into thinking that, Jeff. I'm not buying it."_

As always, Jeff felt himself crumble under the intense stare. "Oh alright, fine!" he sighed. "I hadn't planned on eating before going to the hospital. But pal, it's just plain creepy the way that you know what I'm thinking. I never have been able to understand you. You're one remarkable man, Tommy-boy."

Thomas nodded triumphantly. "Of course I am. I'm me." he stated, grinning like an idiot. Jeff chuckled and shook his head.

"Don't ever become as serious and boring as me, Tom." he murmured, wishing that he could be as carefree as his best friend. "The world needs more people like you."

Thomas regarded him for a moment, his smile fading somewhat as he noticed the grave and saddened expression on Jeff's face. Then the doors slid open, and the doctor broke out into a fresh grin. Clapping Jeff on the back, he directed them towards the front desk to renew their key-cards.

"C'mon, Jeff, don't be like that!" he said cheerfully, attempting to bring a smile to his friend's face once again. "You're not 'Mr. Doom-and-gloom' _all_ the time. Remember what you and I did to the commander's coffee on April Fools Day ten years ago?"

As intended, this remark did bring a smile Jeff's face, albeit a small one. "Steve never trusted us to bring him coffee again." he deadpanned.

Thomas laughed as he slipped his card back into his pocket. "And I don't blame him! It's a good thing he liked us, or we would've spent the rest of the month writing service reports. I can't believe you talked me into doing something so immature!"

Having handed the card to the receptionist, Jeff turned to frown at the other man incredulously "Me?! You were the one who actually spiked the darn drink!"

As the receptionist walked back over towards them, Jeff plastered a casual smile back onto his face and took the proffered card from her outstretched hand. "Thank you."

Tugging Jeff by the arm, Thomas guided him towards the gleaming revolving doors at the entrance to the hotel. "Yes, I spiked the coffee. But _you_ were the one who thought up the idea in the first place! And you blackmailed me into doing it."

Jeff snorted in amusement. "Tom, I _never_ had to blackmail you into doing stuff like that. You were always too eager to follow through with whatever plan I had concocted. And besides, you thought up at least half of our plans. I mean, _you_ were the one who planted that computer virus on Phil's laptop."

Squinting as they stepped into the bright sunlight, Thomas blinked the stars out of his vision and nodded smugly. "Admit it, that was a stroke of absolute genius. It wasn't actually damaging the machinery, so it was well within the rules."

Side-stepping a few passers-by, Jeff grinned and fell into sink with his friend's steady pace as they walked down the street. "Oh yes, it was certainly original. But you weren't very subtle about it, were you? Everybody knew it was you who had done it."

"And I still have no idea why." Thomas muttered, sighing dramatically. Jeff's smile widened.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," he began seriously. "But it _might _have had something to do with the fact that, every time Phil turned on the laptop, the words '_Thomas Palmar for President'_ would scroll across the screen."

The doctor nodded, mimicking Jeff's serious expression. "Yes, perhaps you're right. That may have given them a clue."

Chuckling slightly, Jeff stepped into the large cafeteria that Thomas had lead himto, blinking again as the change in light intensity made him see floating lights hovering around the shaded cafe entrance. Thomas smiled as he headed for one of the tables at the very back of the complex, surreptitiously glancing around. "Looks like we may be in luck, Jeff. No paparazzi hounding us today, huh? I'm glad, 'cause I really don't feel like getting my jaw pounded by your fist again."

Jeff blushed a little as he took a seat. "Sorry." he murmured. Thomas rolled his eyes and sat down in the chair opposite him.

"Jeff, that was over sixteen years ago." he stated lightly. "I forgave you the minute you threw the punch. Stop apologising already! It was a joke, pal. You know? One of those little things you're supposed to find amusing? Please don't tell me you've gone and lost your sense of humour!"

Jeff grinned and shook his head, straightening up as a young waitress approached their table. Handing large menus to the both of them, she took a small notebook out of her pocket and grabbed the pencil from behind her ear.

"Good afternoon, sirs. My name's Sarah, and I'll be your waitress for today. Would you like to order drinks?" she inquired. Tom and Jeff both requested a coffee, and the waitress smiled at them before she turned around and headed back towards the kitchen area. Thomas nudged Jeff with his elbow.

"Hey Jeff, looks like our luck's holding out for us." he remarked. "I don't think she recognised you. At least if she did, she's a darn good actress. No jaw-dropping or anything. Hmm, I think it's safe to assume that she just didn't know who you were."

Jeff sighed in relief. It seemed that these days he couldn't go anywhere in public without at least one person doing a double-take as he walked on by. _Maybe we're in luck. Maybe I can make it to the hospital without getting attacked by the press. If I pay the bill with cash, I won't have to sign my name on anything and then the waitress won't have to find out my identity. And perhaps- Hey, what's up with Tom?_

Thomas was glancing down at his lap, frowning slightly. As Jeff watched, he sighed and shook his head. Leaning across the table, Jeff spotted the portable touch-screen that Thomas was always glued to on-board the space station. If Jeff knew Thomas - and he certainly did - the doctor was most likely skimming through the global news headlines. Having being in space for long periods of time himself, Jeff understood his friend's need to stay up-to-date with the goings-on of the world.

"What's the matter?" Jeff asked cautiously. Thomas glanced up at him, and Jeff could see the disappointment and pain in his eyes.

"There was a fire at a boarding school in Australia." he said gravely. "It was a well-known place, one of the finest boarding schools around. The complex was apparently surrounded by dense forest, obviously in an attempt to give the pupils a bit of seclusion from the rest of society. The cause of the fire is still 'unknown', but I doubt they'll be able to find out. By the looks of things, there isn't all that much of the school left. I mean, that place had the best equipment and facilities around, and once the flames reacted with some of circuitry - well, I think you can figure out the rest. The fire department arrived only fifteen minutes after the fire had started, and they did their best to evacuate the children. Only problem was, the ferocity of the flames made it nearly impossible to bring the inferno back under control in time. They only managed to save about two-thirds of the kids."

Jeff swallowed painfully. "How many kids were there in the school?" he asked, knowing that he wasn't going to like the answer.

Thomas sighed and shook his head again. "Nearly fifteen-hundred." he said sadly.

"Dammit." Jeff breathed, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. Having lost his Lucy only a thirteen months earlier, he knew perfectly well the pain that losing a family member would bring. _But to lose one of your children? Thank God I don't know what that's like. However, if things had turned out differently yesterday, perhaps I would be in their shoes right now. Perhaps I would know what it feels like to lose something so innocent and precious. I wish there was something I could do to help the families of the children lost in the fire. But it's too late now. Money and words can't sooth their pain. Dammit, this should never happen to any parent! _

"Jeff?"

The Tracy patriarch jumped slightly. "Hmm - what?" he stuttered, snapping out of his own thoughts.

Thomas was eyeing him warily, but refrained from commenting on Jeff's odd reaction. Instead, he glanced back down at his touch-screen. "I said," he continued. "That the members of fire department were unable to prevent the fire from spreading to the surrounding vegetation, and there is consequently a dangerous forest fire heading towards a nearby town. They're being evacuated at the moment, but the fire's going to destroy a number of homes."

Thomas sighed again as he pocketed the device, shaking his head. "There's nothing the authorities can do now to prevent it. They simply didn't have the right equipment. Heck, I doubt _anybody_ has the equipment to tackle a fire that strong. We just have to hope that it burns itself out before it spreads any further than the town."

The waitress arrived with the drinks, setting them down on the table and taking up her notebook again. "Are you ready to order yet, sir?" she asked, directing her question at Jeff, as Thomas was now bending down to retrieve the napkin that had fallen from the table.

"Actually, I think I'm alright, thank you." Jeff replied, smiling convincingly. "I'll just have the coffee."

Thomas shot up quickly, banging his head on the underside of the table in his haste to right himself. He frowned towards Jeff, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "We'll both have the beef burger with salad and fries, please." he requested politely. The waitress looked from one man to the other in slight confusion, before scribbling the order down and picking up her empty tray.

"Coming right up, sir." she smiled, and hurried off once more. Jeff glared at Thomas accusingly. Thomas just glared right back at him.

"What was that for?" Jeff asked, keeping his voice a harsh whisper so as not to attract any unwanted attention. And, in Jeff's opinion, _any_ attention was unwanted attention at this particular moment in time.

"Jeff, when was the last time you actually ate a meal?" Thomas demanded. "And when I say 'meal', I do _not_ mean a cup of coffee. I mean 'meal' as in 'food'."

Jeff sighed and looked away, knowing full well that the answer wasn't going to please his old friend. "Yesterday lunch." he murmured. He glanced up as Thomas opened and closed his mouth incredulously.

"Jeff, you moron!" he hissed, once he's finally managed to voice his worry. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. "Are you trying to make yourself ill? I know you've missed me whilst I've been away but - Jeff, if you wanted to spend time in the hospital with me, all you had to do was ask."

Jeff smiled at Thomas' light remark. "Look, I'm sorry." he said softly. "I was working late, as usual. I'd skipped dinner with the boys so that I could finish of a business report, and I didn't have time to get myself anything before we had to go out searching for Gordon and Alan. Don't look at me like that, Tom. Please? I already feel as guilty as hell over not having dinner with them like any _normal_ father would have done."

Thomas held up his hand and shook his head firmly. "Ah-ah-ah, not another word about that." he said. "It's in the past, and you've moved on. Stop blaming yourself before I end up socking you in the jaw."

Jeff blinked in surprise at the half-hearted threat. Thomas Palmar was one of the least violent men on the planet, unless you took into account how he dealt with particularly stubborn and idiotic patients. Jeff was quite certain that the very last thing Thomas would do to him would be to sock him in the jaw. Smiling slightly, Jeff felt himself begin to calm down as his friend continued.

"And besides, the boys aren't gonna want to listen to you lamenting over their 'lost childhood', are they?" he joked lightly. "As I said before, they'll just be happy to spend some time with you."

Jeff nodded. "I guess you're right. Again." he added reluctantly.

Thomas laughed. "Get used to it, buster! I'm gonna be spending a lot more time with you than you first thought."

Jeff frowned questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the management board of Brookfield hospital have offered me the position of chief medical consultant," he began. "With the added privilege of being able to participate in surgeries if and when I wish to do so. My long career with NASA means that I'm fully qualified to operate any machinery they use - and believe me Jeff, this is one advanced hospital - so I guess I must look like some sort of 'bonus package' to them. They only finished building the place a couple of years ago, and already it's got more funds than any other hospital on the planet! It's a remarkable hospital, Jeff. I've always wanted to work in a place like this after I'd finished up on-board the station. And the management board have practically begged me to join the staff, how can I possibly refuse?"

Jeff smiled slightly upon seeing his friend's obvious enthusiasm. "Well, that medical university in Harvard begged you to work there, but you declined them easily enough." he remarked.

"That's because they wanted me to be a _lecturer_, Jeff!" Thomas groaned. "And you know exactly how I feel on the subject of lectures."

Jeff nodded. "Yes, I certainly do." he agreed. The waitress appeared once again, carrying their plates of food. Thomas flashed her a charming smile and winked at her as she set down cutlery for them.

"Thank you, Sarah." he said. She blushed, nearly tripping over a chair as she tucked a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear and hurried away with a soft giggle. Jeff rolled his eyes at his old friend, and Thomas tried to look innocent.

"What?" he asked, raising his hands slightly. "Why are you looking at me like that? What?!"

Jeff chuckled and shook his head. "Still have that old 'Tommy-charm' about you, huh? Man, it's been years since you've done that, but you still know how to make the ladies blush."

Thomas shrugged. "What? Just 'cause I've been stuck on a space station for the past year doesn't mean that I've forgotten how to court the ladies, Jeff. Besides, now that I'm going to be spending the rest of my life on earth, I think it's high time I allowed myself to begin a proper relationship."

Jeff snorted slightly as he chewed on a fry. "So you're gonna flirt with every woman you see just in case she's the 'right one'?"

Thomas frowned at his friend and took a moody sip of his coffee, yelping softly as it burnt his tongue. Jeff laughed at this, and the doctor shot him a mock-glare. "Honestly, Jeff!" he sighed. "I come down from space, expecting a big, warm welcome from my best friend, and what does he do? He laughs at me!"

Jeff grinned his reply before he sobered slightly and glanced down at his watch, frowning when he noticed just how much time had passed since leaving the hotel. As he began to attack his meal with greater speed, Thomas rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Slow down, Jeff." he instructed firmly. "I refuse to give you mouth-to-mouth in public because you've gone and choked on a fry. And besides, I wouldn't be in such a hurry to get back to the hospital if I were you."

Swallowing a mouthful of burger, Jeff cocked his head to the side questioningly. "Why's that?"

Thomas chuckled slightly, leaning forward and interlocking his fingers. Resting his chin atop his clasped hands, he looked at Jeff steadily and smirked. "Have you ever heard of the term 'post-anaesthetic syndrome'?"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Jeff pressed the button beside the door and waited until they had '_swished' _open, before stepping into the room. He spotted his youngest son, sitting with Scott in his bed and watching TV on the screen attached to the extendable arm in front of him. John and Virgil sat at the end of the mattress, talking quietly with each other, and Gordon lay sleeping peacefully in his own bed, his face relaxed and a little less pale than it had been earlier that day.

"Daddy!" a small voice croaked.

Jeff turned towards Alan's bed and smiled. Striding forward swiftly, he dropped down onto the mattress just as the five-year-old wriggled out from underneath the blankets and opened his arms towards Jeff, the adorable '_hug me'_ expression plastered across his face. Jeff willingly scooped the boy up and settled him on his lap, planting a gentle kiss on the blond locks.

"Hey, little man." Jeff murmured, feeling his son's warm forehead with the back of his. "Are you feeling any better?"

Alan nodded slightly and sighed. "My throat is still sore and my head still hurts, but my eyes don't sting anymore." he said softly, his fingers playing with the buttons on Jeff's shirt. "Did you have a nice sleep, Daddy?"

Jeff smiled as he gave Virgil a one-armed hug, being sure to keep an arm looped around Alan's waist to prevent him from falling off his knees. "I slept very well, thank you." he replied, squeezing John's shoulder before straightening up again. Smiling at Scott, he adjusted Alan's position on his lap and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "And did you behave yourself, little one?" he asked teasingly.

Alan giggled and nodded confidently. "I was good, Daddy. Wasn't I, Scotty?"

Scott nodded and chuckled. "Yes you were, Allie. As good as gold."

Alan nodded again. "See? I was very good when you were sleeping, but Gordy got all cross 'cause Scotty kept talking, and he said-"

Alan broke of as the slight tickle in his throat caused him to cough loudly. Jeff grimaced sympathetically, but smiled when Scott inched closer and handed Alan a small carton of juice.

"Easy, tiger." the teenager murmured soothingly. "You're supposed to be resting your voice until your throat is better, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Scotty." Alan croaked. Scott shushed him gently and encouraged him to take a sip of the juice, causing Jeff's smile to widen.

Scott really was a natural at comforting his baby brother. The bond between the two of them went beyond that of brothers, this much was obvious. And this saddened Jeff somewhat, as it was a reminder of how his selfish actions had affected his children. Although, from what he had seen of his boys as they interacted with each other, the consequences of his actions had done nothing more than strengthen his sons' relationships with each other. Despite all the hurt and the pain his actions had caused, at least there was a tiny sliver of a silver lining to the storm cloud he had created over the past thirteen months.

Alan handed the juice carton back to his older brother and sighed. Scott brushed a lock of hair off the sweaty forehead and smiled. "That better?" he asked.

"Lots better." Alan replied. "Thanks Scotty."

Jeff clucked Alan under the chin gently to get the boy's attention. Once Alan was looking up at him, he smiled warmly. "What were you and Scotty watching on the TV, Alan?" he inquired softly.

"Loony Toons." Alan grinned. "Scotty found a channel that just shows them and they're really funny!"

As Alan's voice cracked again, Jeff decided that perhaps asking his son to talk was not the best plan of action. Instead, he smiled again and kissed Alan on the cheek. "That sounds like fun. Why don't you sit down and rest for a bit, and watch some more cartoons with Scott?"

Alan nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

Jeff set his youngest down in the bed beside Scott once more, pulling up the blankets and tucking them around his legs. Then he grinned and ruffled both his eldest's and his baby boy's hair, loving the surprised reaction he got from Scott. The teenager smiled slightly as he reached up to smooth his chocolate locks back into a more controlled style. Jeff winked at him and squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

Standing up and heading over to Gordon's bed, he sat down in the chair at the bedside. Hearing a sharp intake of breath behind him, he turned to see Scott gazing at his younger brother apprehensively. Jeff frowned worriedly.

"Scotty? What it it?" he asked softly. "What's wrong?"

Scott swallowed and cleared his throat. "Maybe you should just let him rest, Dad." he suggested quietly. "He was pretty tired earlier on. He probably needs to sleep for a little bit longer."

Jeff shook his head and smiled. "Tom will be here in a few minutes to do a check-up, so he's gonna have to be awake for that. Might as well give him time to get his bearings before Tom arrives."

As Jeff reached out a hand to gently cup Gordon's cheek, Scott winced and began to sink further down into Alan's pillows, as though he were trying to hide from view. Jeff looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing across his lips.

"Scott, when Gordon was awake, did he seem to be acting - _differently_ to the way he normally does?" Jeff asked lightly. Scott blushed and looked down, as John and Virgil began to snicker at the end of the bed.

"Well, he was a little bit - um - cranky." Scott replied hesitantly. "But I'm sure he just needed sleep, that's all."

Jeff grinned and nodded knowingly. "Ah. Post-anaesthetic syndrome has set in then, has it?"

"Well, if this 'post-anaesthetic syndrome' makes you as cranky as Virgil is at seven o'clock on a Saturday morning, then yeah, he's got it." John remarked, grinning at Virgil as the younger boy scowled up at him moodily. It was a well known fact that the twelve-year-old was _not_ a morning person.

Jeff chuckled softly, glancing down at the angelic sleeping form of his second-youngest. "Ah, I'm sure he's not as bad as Virge." he smiled.

Virgil frowned at the insult, but then broke into a cheeky grin when he saw Scott's face. "Well, Dad, let's just say that you may want to keep a closer eye on Tracy One from now on."

Jeff looked at his middle-child in confusion. "Come again?"

"Oh, and I'd hide the yellow paint." John added, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. Jeff shook his head and smiled.

"I probably don't want to know." he murmured. "So Scott, what did you say to Gordon to make him snap?"

Before Scott could reply, the doors '_swished'_ open and Thomas entered the room, closely followed by Andy. The two doctors were talking quietly together, chuckling softly at a joke that one of them had just made. Spotting Jeff sitting beside Gordon's bed, Andy smiled and strode forward.

"Hi, Mr. Tracy." he said cheerfully. "I'm Dr. Andrew Myers. But please, call me Andy."

Jeff accepted the offered hand and shook it, returning the smile warmly. Then he frowned a little, pausing long enough to cock his head to the side and look at the younger man more closely. "Have we met?" he inquired thoughtfully. "I could have sworn I've seen your face somewhere before."

Andy blushed slightly, but shook his head. "No, I don't think we've met before today, sir." he stated. "I've only been working in this hospital for six months, and before then I worked in Boston."

Jeff nodded and shrugged, although he really did feel as though he had seen Andy before. The doctor smiled at him again, before walking to the end of the bed and frowning slightly at the empty slot he saw there. Then he sighed and turned around slowly to face the boys on the other bed.

"Alright, Virgil, where did you leave it this time?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear. Virgil blushed and stood to his feet hurriedly, scooping up the data-pad from the mattress beside him and handing it over to the doctor with a sheepish expression on his face. Andy was about to begin reading the notes when he paused, dropping his hands to his sides. "Okay, Virgil, let's see what you can tell me about Gordon's condition." he smiled.

Virgil looked momentarily startled, before he frowned thoughtfully and rubbed the back of his neck in the way that he always did when he was trying to work out something difficult. "His temperatures pretty much back to normal." Virgil began slowly. "The circulation to his foot is good, so that means that the bones have definitely been set right, I think. And he's cranky, which means that he's recovering from the anaesthetic okay, but apparently you want to make sure his temperature is back to normal before letting him go home, just in case it's an infection in his leg and not just in his throat."

Jeff gaped in surprise as his twelve-year-old confidently relayed this information to the young doctor. Glancing over at Thomas, he noticed a startled but pleased expression was spreading across his old friend's face. Looking back towards Andy, he saw the younger man nod in approval as he skimmed through the notes on his pad.

"Yup, that seems about right." he smiled. "Full marks, kiddo. I might as well hand in my resignation now and let you take over the hospital." Turning towards Thomas, he handed the the data-pad to the other doctor and rubbed a weary hand over his face. "Right, that's my first shift over for the day. I have the night-shift later this evening, so I'll be back in at eight o'clock."

Thomas winced sympathetically. "A split-day shift _and_ a night shift?" he inquired. "Ouch. They always give those to the younger doctors."

Andy nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it." he groaned, taking a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket. "Alright. If you need me for anything, Dr. Palmar, just call me on my cell."

"It's Tom." Thomas smiled, accepting the small slip of paper. "And thanks, I'll bear that in mind. But for now, just go home and sleep. I may well become your chief consultant soon, so I don't want you nodding off during your night shift, understood."

Andy saluted and grinned. "Aye, captain!"

Turning towards the Tracy sons, he flashed a cheeky grin and waved. "Now remember our plan, guys?" he said in a stage-whisper. "You give Dr. Palmar as much grief as possible, then he'll decide against working in this hospital so that _I_ can have his position!"

Scott, John and Virgil nodded with mock-seriousness, and Alan just giggled into his two small hands as Andy winked at them and put a finger to his lips. Then the doctor strode off towards the door, stopping long enough to glance back over his shoulder and grin.

"See you later, guys!" he called cheerfully to the Tracy boys.

"Bye, Andy!" the four Tracy sons chorused, and Jeff couldn't help but grin at the sound. It was good to see that things were returning to the way they were supposed to be.

Once the doors had closed, Thomas sighed happily and began to flick through the notes on the data-pad. "I like him." he remarked. "If all the staff are as cheerful as he is, there's certainly no question in my mind about whether or not I should take the position."

Jeff smiled, running his fingers through Gordon's copper hair thoughtfully. "I think you should accept the offer, Tom." he stated softly. "I mean, you're not gonna find a hospital this advanced in every country. And besides, you'll be far closer to the boys if you work here. Only an hour's flight away. It also means that I can yank you over to the island whenever one of them gets sick."

Thomas chuckled softly, but he was nodding in agreement. "You're right, this does seem to be the perfect job opportunity for me. It's got a nice, fresh feel to it. And all the staff are top of their game, even if some of them are younger than me. I'm glad that a few of the surgeons are a good deal older than me, or I'd feel like a grandpa in this place."

Jeff laughed, shaking his head. "Relax, Tom, you've still got a few years to go before you hit the big four-zero."

Thomas sighed in resignation. "But I've met a number of doctors so far, and most of them are barely into their thirties. And as for Andy - well - he can't be much older than mid-twenties. He must be a recent graduate. But he's good, if that's the case. He handles it like a professional. Maybe he just looks young for his age."

Jeff nodded silently, the thoughtful frown increasing as he tried to put his finger on what it was about Andrew Myers that had caught his attention. Jeff knew he had definitely seen him before, or had at least heard his name mentioned in the past. But where?

Shrugging, Jeff allowed a small smile to blossom over his face as Gordon grunted softly and began to stir beneath his fingertips. The mystery of Dr. Myers could wait until later. Jeff had more important matters to deal with at the moment, such as looking after his children.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, we finally witness the moment when the 'janitor' comes face-to-face with the wrath of the Tracy family. What will happen? What is it about Andy that has Jeff so baffled? And does it have anything to do with the janitor's presence? Find out soon!_**

**_Okay, I know I seem to be saying this a lot, but I am VERY SORRY for the fact that this chapter did not contain the content that it was supposed to contain. Yet again, I misjudged the length of my chapters. The next chapter used to be attached to the end of this one, but the final draft was over 9000 words long so I figured that I needed to split it up into two chapters._**

**_However, this means that THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED LATER THIS EVENING as I have almost finished it already. I hope you aren't too angry, but as I said before, once I start typing, the story carries itself off without me. At least it's going where I want it to go, it just seems to be having a little fun along the way. Hee hee._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and reassure me that you don't all want to murder me for misjudging lengths again. I'm a silly goose, that's what I am. 'sniff'_**

**_I hope you weren't all bored by the lack of violence as was promised, but I SWEAR ON MY FAVOURITE PAIR OF TAP SHOES THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL INCLUDE THE VIOLENT SCENE YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR!! And besides, I just got carried away typing out Jeff's interactions with Tom. He's so nice, I couldn't help but type away!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	20. Chapter 19: Identities Revealed

**_Okay, you lucky ducks, here's the rest of it! Wow, two long chapters in one day, I really do spoil you! (Well, it's actually just one REALLY long chapter split into two, but it still took ages to type, so be happy! Hee hee.)_**

**_Thanks for the reviews, I'm surprised that there were so many considering that there was only a few hours in between the updates! That made me smile. Well, here's the next chapter!_**

* * *

Scott watched Gordon and Virgil as they laughed softly over a cartoon they were watching on Gordon's TV screen. It was good to hear their laughter again. It warmed his heart in a way that nothing else could, and for a short while during the thunderstorm, he had wondered whether or not he would ever hear that sound again. But God had been watching over them during the violent weather, and had kept his brothers safe.

Scott smiled as his baby brother yawned for the third time in the space of thirty seconds. Alan shifted in his father's arms, snuggling closer to Jeff's chest as his eyes began to droop. Glancing at his watch, Scott noticed that it was already five minutes to eight, which was way past Alan's bedtime.

"Dad?" he called softly. When Jeff looked up at him from where he sat in the chair at Gordon's bedside, Scott tapped his watch and smiled. "I think it's about time a certain somebody went to bed."

Indicating Alan's snoozing form with a nod of his head, Scott grinned as his father's face softened into an adoring smile. Jeff had been returned to them, and it was almost as though the accident had never happened. The struggles and the stress of the past thirteen months had been forgotten and utterly forgiven. The pain didn't matter any more. Scott no longer had the heavy weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. Jeff had made that perfectly clear in the conversation they had shared earlier that day;

.

_"Scotty, there's a reason why I've been acting the way I have over the past thirteen months." Jeff began softly, leaning on the back of the park bench. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head sadly. "The day your mom died, a part of me seemed to die with her. I loved your mother so much, Scotty. So, so much. And I didn't know what I was going to do without her. I was scared, son. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to keep it together. That I'd somehow lose you boys the way I had lost her. The pain I felt was almost unbearable, I didn't know how I was going to get rid of it. And then I discovered that, if I concentrated hard enough on work and in expanding my business, everything else seemed to just fade away around it."_

_"I never meant to hurt you boys. Never. I guess, in a weird sense, I thought I was doing you a favour." he continued slowly, rounding the bench and sitting down beside Scott. "I didn't want to burden you with my pain, and I knew that I would never be able to care for you in the same way that your mother had done. And it hurt, Scott. It hurt me to see you all so upset over her death. The pain I felt was already too much to bear, and spending time with you boys as you grieved only made me feel worse about what had happened."_

_"Because you blamed yourself." Scott said softly, blinking back the tears as gazed at his father steadily. "You blamed yourself for mom's death. And when we were all caught in the avalanche, you thought you were gonna lose us too. That's why you didn't want to get close to us again, in case we were taken from you like she'd been. You couldn't bear the thought of losing anybody else who was so special to you."_

_Jeff's pain-filled eyes studied Scott's face in surprise and wonder. Scott reached out a hand and squeezed his father's arm, even as his fingers shook slightly with suppressed emotion._

_"Dad, I understand why you acted the way you did." he continued. "Why you tried to shut out the rest of the world. Why you moved us to an island in an attmept to escape the pain. I've always understood. And it doesn't even matter any more. Why not just forget about the last thirteen months? We can start afresh."_

_Jeff covered Scott's hand with one of his own, the anguish in his eyes causing Scott's throat to tighten even more. "Son, I know it's gonna be hard for you to forgive me. I know you're going to be angry at me for being such a jerk and forcing you to play the role of a father. But I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise I'll do everything I can to be the father you haven't had since your mom died. Just please, give me the chance to set things straight."_

_Scott swallowed painfully as he rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Dad, don't you understand? None of us are angry at you. We have been in the past, like when you had to go away for conferences for days at a time. But we all understood, all of us. Alan and Gordon were confused about it sometimes, but all they ever wanted was for you to just be their dad again. I won't lie to you, there have been times when even I've felt mad at you on behalf of the other guys. I just didn't think I was doing a very good job at looking after them, and I wanted them to have a real father, not just a authoritative older brother. Sometimes I wondered if things could ever go back to the way they used to be with you, or if I was just giving the guys false hope. Over the past few weeks, I started to think-"_

_Scott stopped as his voice broke, and swallowed again. Clenching his teeth, he lowered his eyes to gaze at the wood of the park bench and took in a deep, shaky breath. "There were times when I thought we'd never get you back again. That you'd never snap out of it. After we moved to the island, I'd hoped that you'd start lessening the work-load. But it only got worse. Last week, we hardly saw you at all. I was scared that this was how you were going to be for the rest of your life, that Johnny and I would have to look after the family on our own."_

_Scott felt Jeff reach out and grasp his arms gently, but he did not raise his head. His vision blurred as tears pooled in his eyes, and the wood of the bench darkened slightly as a huge, salty droplet fell swiftly and landed beside his leg. His chest and throat now ached painfully, and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his breathing under control._

_"I prayed every night that something would bring you back to us." Scott rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was so desperate to have a father again. You don't know how much I've missed that over the past year. I've tried to be like a father figure to them, especially to Alan and Gordon. But when I needed someone to turn to, I couldn't. I didn't have anyone to go to if there was a problem, nobody to listen to me and give me advice. I didn't know what to do. I've never felt so alone. I just wanted you back, Dad."_

_Scott lost the battle to reign in his emotions, and allowed the tears to slip freely from his eyes. He sensed a shift in movement beside him, before he found himself being drawn into a warm, gentle embrace. He leaned his head on his father's shoulder and sobbed out all of his pain. The worry and grief of the past thirteen months, the relief at finally having his father back, the guilt he felt over allowing Alan and Gordon to get hurt. With every tear that fell from his eyes, his heart seemed to grow lighter. He suddenly felt like a child once more, cuddling up to his Dad after experiencing a nightmare. And Jeff was rubbing his back just as he had done throughout Scott's childhood, his warm, gentle hand soothing the pains away._

_"I'm so sorry, Scotty." Jeff whispered. "I had no idea that my actions had affected you so badly. I would never want to cause you pain, son. Never. But it's going to be alright now, you hear? I'll never leave you like that again. And you aren't responsible for your brothers anymore, alright? That's my job, and it always has been. At least, it should have been. I can't express just how sorry I am over everything that's happened to you, but I will promise you one thing; you will always have me to turn to, you understand? No matter what. You're my son, Scotty, and I love you so much. And if I ever, ever, do anything like this again - ever - then you have my permission to give me a good kick in the pants, alright?"_

_Scott gave a small, watery chuckle. "You got it, Dad."_

_Scott didn't know if it was his father's words, or the tender kiss that was planted on his forehead, but he understood at that moment in time that his dad had truly come back to them. Not only that, but Scott had the feeling he would never, ever leave them now that he had returned. They, as a family, would heal. They would grow stronger, and they would never be broken apart again._

.

"Scotty?"

Scott blinked the fuzziness out of his vision and glanced down to where Alan was standing beside him. Pushing himself off of the wall, where he had been casually leaning as he day-dreamed, he bent down and lifted Alan into his arms.

"You gong to bed now, Sprout?" he asked gently. Alan nodded, yawning again and letting his arms come around Scott's neck, resting his head on his brother's shoulder.

"Good idea, kiddo." Scott smiled. "I think your battery needs recharging."

Walking back towards the bed, he pulled back the covers with his free hand and settled Alan down upon the mattress. As he moved to tuck the blankets around his baby brother, Alan suddenly say bolt-upright. Scott frowned worriedly.

"Allie? What is it?" he questioned softly. "What's the matter?"

"Johnny hasn't got back yet, and I need to say goodnight before I go to sleep." Alan stated, blinking furiously as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier with each passing second. Jeff, who had been watching the brotherly interaction with a fond smile playing across his face, stood up from his chair at Gordon's bedside and crouched down beside Alan's bed.

"Allie, John has just gone to buy a drink from downstairs." Jeff began gently. "You've said goodnight to Virgil, Gordon and Scott, why don't you just close your eyes and - and _rest_ for a little bit until John gets back."

Alan shook his head firmly. "I can't, Daddy." he protested softly. He coughed slightly, rubbing at his eyes, before sitting up a little straighter in his bed. "I might fall asleep and then Johnny will get sad 'cause I haven't said g'night to him. And I don't wanna make Johnny sad, Daddy, 'cause I love him."

Jeff's face showed clearly that his heart had just melted with the love he felt for the five-year-old, and he gently pulled Alan into a hug, planting a kiss atop the soft mop of blond locks. "Okay, Allie. You win." he murmured, smiling in adoration as he ran his fingers over Alan's flushed cheek. "You can stay up until John gets back."

Alan looked up at his father and grinned. "Really, Daddy?" he asked. When Jeff nodded, Alan threw his arms wearily around Jeff's waist and kissed his father's chest. "Love you, Daddy."

Jeff chuckled fondly and smiled up at Scott, before hugging the young boy closer to his chest and kissing his hair once more. "I love you too, Al-"

"SCOTT!"

The eldest Tracy son jumped about a foot in the air as his name was shouted from the doorway. It was not the shout itself that worried Scott, but the fact that it had been yelled from John's lips. John sounded panicked, and that was never a good thing. Striding forward towards the door, Scott put his hands on John's shoulders and gazed into the frightened - _wait a second, frightened?_ - aqua-blue eyes.

"John, calm down." Scott soothed automatically. Then he saw the way that John continued to glance nervously over his shoulder and frowned worriedly. "What is it, Johnny? What's wrong?"

"Scott, I just saw the janitor guy that cornered Virge earlier." John said hurriedly. "He had the camera with him. He tried to ask me questions about Dad's business, so I told him where I would stick his camera if he didn't leave our family alone. He's definitely a reporter"

Even under the present circumstances, Scott couldn't help but crack a small smile at this. Despite John's calm and composed attitude, the star-loving Tracy son had one tornado of a temper whenever his family was threatened. Scott could quite well imagine some of the witty remarks his brother might have made in response to the nosy reporter's questions.

"Scott? John?"

The two teenagers froze slightly when they heard their father come up behind them. Jeff's face was one of both concern and confusion, and he glanced from one son to the other as they fell into silence.

"Boys, what's going on?" he asked quietly, keeping his voice low enough so that the younger three could not hear him. "What's all this I hear about a reporter?"

Scott cursed himself inwardly for not telling his father sooner, but hurried to inform the older Tracy about all that had happened between Virgil and the shifty 'janitor' earlier that day. Jeff's face seemed to grow darker by the second, and his hands slowly clenched into fists.

"Where did you see him, John?" he asked, his voice low and with a hint of anger.

"Just to the left of the stairs outside the double doors." John replied. "But he was heading after me when I darted into this corridor, so he may not be there any more. Seriously, that guy totally creeps me out. He's gone to a lot of trouble to sneak into the hospital just to get a couple of snapshots of us, don't you think?"

Jeff nodded absentmindedly. "Sadly, some people don't seem to have lives of their own. What I don't get is why they take such pleasure in ruining ours. C'mon, boys. We need to alert security." Turning towards Virgil and Gordon, Jeff smiled warmly. "Boys, your brothers and I just need to pop out for a few minutes. I want you to stay in here, understand? Don't leave the room until I get back, okay?"

"Sure thing, Dad." Virgil answered, looking between his father and Scott with a confused expression on his face.

"Good boy." Jeff smiled. "Watch over your brothers until we get back, alright?" Virgil nodded his head solemnly, still at a loss as to what was going on. Jeff turned back towards his two eldest and forced a calm expression onto his face. "I'll go down to reception and alert security. I want you two to keep an eye out for this 'janitor' guy, whoever he may be. I'll be back as soon as I can. Tom should be up in a few minutes to check on your brothers, so make sure he's informed of the situation. Everybody clear?"

"Yes, Dad." Scott said immediately, feeling his blood boiling as he thought about the amount of grief this one reporter was bringing to his family. If he were allowed to, he would quite happily follow through with John's threat and show the 'janitor' that messing with the Tracy family was not to be advised.

As they stepped out into the corridor, Jeff jogged towards the double doors and poked his head through. Glancing back over his shoulder, he shook his head. "He's not here anymore, boys." he called. "He must have scarpered after John ran. Right, I'm going down to reception. Stay here until I get back. And be careful."

Once Jeff had slipped through the doors at the end of the corridor, Scott leaned his back against the wall and sighed slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on the doors. John moved over to join him, and they stood in silence for several minutes, forcing smiles onto their faces for the sake of a nurse who passed them by cheerfully. At last, Scott kicked the wall with his heel and huffed out a frustrated breath. John regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

"What's up, Scotty?" he asked lightly. Scott began to pace up and down in front of his blond brother, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"I'm sick of this, Johnny!" he growled angrily. "The press never leave us alone! What's so incredible about our family that all the creeps have to come swarming after us?!"

John looked down at his sneakers and sighed, shaking his head. "Well, the fact that Dad is one of the most famous astronauts of all time might account for some of the publicity." he remarked dryly. "And then there's the fact that he accomplished the longest space-walk in history, was the youngest cadet to graduate from the NASA training base, practically invented the hypox energy converter - which, as you know, saved everybody a heck of a lot of money - and not to mention the fact that he's now the head of one of the most successful business firms in the world at the moment. I mean c'mon, we're not exactly a normal family. And ever since the accident, they've just found us all the more interesting."

Scott nodded glumly. "Tell me about it." he murmured. "I just wish they'd give us a break, you know? Just for one day. After everything that's happened to our family, the last thing we want is having a camera shoved in our face every time we turn around."

At that moment, the doors opened again. Scott tensed slightly and froze to the spot, his head swiveling round in the direction of the doors. However, it was only Thomas, not the janitor. The doctor smiled at them and waved, before frowning slightly and dropping hand.

"What are you guys doing out here?" he asked. "I'd have thought you'd want to be spending some time with your brothers."

Scott hurriedly explained the reason for their being outside the hospital room doors instead of behind them. As Jeff's had done, Thomas' face grew darker and darker as Scott's tale continued.

"Idiotic lunatic." Thomas muttered angrily. "Never gives you guys a moment's peace. Where's your dad?"

"He went down to reception so that he could alert security." John stated, running a hand through his blond hair and exhaling slowly. "I don't think he's too happy about-"

"Mr. Tracy!"

The two teenagers tensed, and the doctor grew slightly stiff, as the voice rang out down the corridor. Turning ever so slightly, Scott caught a view of the man - the very man - who had been causing their family such trouble over the past few hours. He was early forties, at a guess. Tall, thin, tanned - orange, in fact. _Okay, fake tan then._

The man in the janitor's uniform stopped pushing the large trolley, which was adorned with numerous mops, brooms, cloths and disinfectants. He left the trolley where it was and strode towards where Scott, John and Thomas were standing beside the door. Instinctively, Scott stepped in front of John. Almost in the same instant, Thomas stepped in front of Scott.

"Can I help you?" the doctor inquired, his tone overly light. The janitor fell into the trap easily, completely missing the angry glares that both Scott and John were shooting in his direction.

"Ah yes, I was just wondering if I could have a word with John Tracy here." the man smiled sweetly. "I tried to talk to him earlier, but I don't think he heard me."

"Talk to him about what?" Thomas demanded, his voice growing somewhat harsher as he positioned himself a little closer to Scott as though trying to shield him from view.

"Just family stuff." the man assured him calmly. "It's alright, doc, I know his father."

"The hell you do!" Thomas growled, his eyes becoming firm as his jaw clenched. "Who are you really, and what do you want with the Tracy family?"

"Who do you think I am?" the janitor retorted hotly, indicating his navy-blue uniform. "A brain surgeon? Look, I'm just your average janitor. Now please, I'd like to have a word with Mr. Tracy."

"Pal, if you're a janitor, then I'm the queen of the sugarplum fairies." the doctor replied flatly. Scott grinned at this, but refrained from further comment as he saw the janitor's eyes flash dangerously.

"Listen, buster, I really wouldn't joke around with me." he warned. "Just 'cause you're a doctor doesn't give you the right to tell me what I can and can't do!"

"Is that a threat?" Thomas growled out, his restraint clearly beginning to fade. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, but Scott knew that he had no real intention of using them. His eyes were fierce enough to weaken the knees of any adversary. And indeed, the glare that Thomas was now subjecting the other man to was clearly disgruntling him.

"You can't just stand there and refuse me the right to talk to the boy!" the janitor yelled angrily. "I am a member of the hospital staff, not one of your patients! You can't order me around like this!"

Thomas laughed dryly. "A member of the hospital staff? Oh please, don't even try it. Every employee of Brookfield hospital is supplied with an identity badge. Everybody. That includes all janitors and kitchen staff. Sorry, dude, but you really suck at disguises. A twelve-year-old saw through your plans."

The janitor let loose a number of loud curses that would have shocked even the most drunken of bar-crawlers. Thomas' frown solidified into a disapproving glare and his hands clenched into fists once more.

"Hey, that is no way to talk in front of children." he said sternly, his barely-suppressed anger causing him to choke out most of his words. Scott frowned slightly at being referred to as a 'child', but he again refrained from commenting.

"Hey Richard!"

All heads swiveled around in the direction of the double-doors, where a familiar figure stood leaning against the janitor's trolley. He held a black device in his hands, and was turning it this way and that as he inspected the expensive casing.

"Andrew Myers." the janitor smiled, although his eyes seemed to blaze with an unknown fury. "Well, well, well. Long time no see, huh?"

"You could say that." Andy said steely, approaching the group slowly. He stopped a few metres away and bobbed the device from one hand to the other, as though weighing it. "Hey Rich, ain't this yours?"

Richard's eyes narrowed as he spotted the expensive camera in the young doctor's hands. Stepping away from Thomas and the two Tracy boys, he turned to face Andy and glared at him steadily.

"Give it to me." he demanded sternly. "You have no right to handle my things in such a careless manner. That camera is worth more than your sorry butt could ever be."

Andy snorted in amusement. "Funny, you didn't seem to think so five years ago." he remarked. "As I recall, you followed me around constantly, every day, for_ six months_!"

Richard huffed out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, and what a mistake that was. I can't believe I wasted so much time on you, when all you did was attend med-school instead of taking up that teaching position in the science academy. A fifteen-year-old with a brain like yours could have become the greatest science genius in the world. But no, you were just another stupid disappointment. Honestly, one of the most advanced minds on the planet, and you sacrifice it all to look after a bunch of sick people in a hospital. I always said it, totally psycho."

Scott glared at the reporter, and his anger immediately intensified. Andy's words from earlier that day suddenly came back to him, and he realised the truth. He realised why Andy loathed the press just as much as they did. He, too, had once been subjected to the constant hounding of the press reporters. And this - this Richard fella seemed to have caused most of the grief.

"Oh, I'm the psycho? Dude, you were totally in need of a life." Andy continued. "You were obsessed, and frankly it was creeping me out. The med-school cottoned on to who exactly you were, and that's why they called the cops. You had it coming to you, pal. We gave you plenty of warning, but you just wouldn't listen. Now, are you gonna leave quietly or are we gonna have to get the cops to drag your sorry ass all the way out of the building?

Richard snarled at him angrily. "Fine, I'll go. Give me the camera." he demanded."

"What's on it?" Andy countered accusingly. The reporter shrugged, nonplussed.

"Just a few snapshots that the tabloids will be interested in." he said calmly. "Oh, and a wonderful exclusive shot of Scott ad Jeff Tracy having a little heart-to-heart in the park."

Scott felt his face burn at the thought of having pictures of his sobbing self plastered all over the news headlines. That really was the very last thing he needed right now. Glancing over at Andy, he saw that the doctor's expression had hardened all the more.

"You really are a complete asshole, aren't you?" he said crossly. Then he winced, looking over at the Tracy boys and smiling apologetically. "Sorry, it kinda slipped out."

Richard, having grown impatient, clenched his hands into fists and glared at Andy as if trying to kill him with looks alone. "Put the camera down." he ordered. "Now."

Andy wordlessly popped open the back compartment of the camera, looking at the circuitry underneath. The he dropped the camera to the floor, raised one foot into the air, and stamped down on it as hard as possible.

"Whoops." he murmured softly, not looking in the least bit sorry. "Butter fingers."

Richard simply stared, open-mouthed, as Andy raised his foot again and brought it crashing down with enough force to shatter the delicate circuitry within the open compartment. He bent down and gathered the bits and pieces from off of the floor, admiring his handiwork silently. Walking over to the shiny metal trash disposal unit on the wall of the corridor, he slotted the broken camera into the container and pressed the button that would make the load drop down to the rubbish collection unit below.

Turning back towards Richard, he regarded the furious man with a neutral expression. Scott shot a worried glance at the reporter, who was slowly making his way towards the young doctor. He saw Thomas move forwards slightly, blocking Richard's path.

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you." the doctor advised. "It's two against one here."

"Four against one." John corrected, his voice full of anger. Thomas looked over to where Scott and John stood, and shook his head firmly.

"Boys, stay outta this, please." he said softly. Then, turning his attention back towards the reporter, he raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Back off, pal. Don't go making things worse for yourself."

As Richard moved to push past him, Thomas grabbed the man forcefully by the arms and restrained him.

"Get outta my way, doc." the reporter hissed. "This is between the kid and me."

"Oh, so I'm a kid now, am I?" Andy asked calmly. "I'm flattered. I see you haven't lost your charm over the years."

Richard growled angrily and shoved Thomas roughly to the side. He strode swiftly up to where Andy was standing calmly near the wall, pulled back a fist, and punched the young doctor with all his might. There was dull '_thunk'_ as Andy's head snapped back and hit the wall behind him, followed by a louder '_flump'_as he lost his balance and fell sideways onto the floor.

Scott stood frozen to the spot for a few seconds, before he snapped out of his daze and charged forward. Richard, who had grabbed a dazed Andy by the front of his scrubs and had been drawing back his fist to strike again, was taken completely by surprise when the weight of a tall, slightly muscular sixteen-year-old slammed into him and knocked him sideways off of the doctor's body. Scott rolled over, winded slightly by the fall, and looked around worriedly for the reporter. To his horror, Richards had recovered from his fall a lot faster than Scott had expected, and was now moving back towards the dazed doctor on the floor beside the far wall.

The angered man grabbed the front of the doctor's scrubs once more, pulling him off of the ground slightly, before letting the impact of his fist send the man slamming back onto the hard ground. Scott pushed himself up unsteadily and began to stagger towards the pair, when a figure beat him to it. As he watched, Thomas barrelled into Richard just as Scott had done, knocking the other man onto the ground. This time, however, he rolled with him until they had put at least several feet between themselves and Andy. Unfortunately, the roll ended with Richard on top, pinning Thomas beneath him.

"I warned you not to interfere, doc." the reporter growled, landing a strong punch to other the man's jaw.

"Stop it!"

John, who had been frozen to the spot with fear as he watched his older brother tackling the reporter, cried out in alarm as his father's best friend was struck across the jaw. Darting forward, he ran past Scott and straight into the reporter, knocking Richard off Thomas' body and sending him flying. Executing the exact same maneuver as Thomas had done, John gasped as he found himself pinned beneath the older man's strong hands. The anger that blazed in his attacker's eyes made the star-loving Tracy's blood run cold. Richard really didn't seem like the sort of guy who would lose sleep over hitting a young teenager.

Just as John readied himself for the first painful blow, he sensed a slight movement either side of his head. Allowing his eyes to flicker sideways for a moment, he noticed a very familiar shoe had positioned itself only inches away from his ear. He smiled inwardly as he saw Richard tense and look up, his angered expression blanching fearfully. Then a true smile blossomed across the blond Tracy's face as he heard a familiar and oh-so-welcoming voice ring out from somewhere above him.

"Get your filthy hands _off_ my son."

_TBC..._

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**_So Jeff has arrived in time to save John from the wrath of Richard the reporter. But who will save Richard from the wrath of Jeff Tracy? Will everyone escape from the battle unscathed, or will somebody pay the price for Richard's anger? What is the full story behind Andy's background, and how is it that he came to be a doctor? Does he really have the mind of a genius? And when John and Jeff have their little heart-to-heart, will father and son form a bond as strong as the one Jeff has created with Scott, or has the pain of the past year distanced Jeff from the star-loving Tracy forever? Find out on Monday!_**

**_Okay, that was the chapter of violence that you have all been waiting for. It wasn't very violent, I know, but the Tracy boys are only kids. I couldn't make it too graphic, could I? Besides, there's more to come when Jeff gets his hands on Richard!_**

**_I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and thanks for reading. PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you thought of it, I'd really like to hear your comments. See you on Monday!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	21. Chapter 20: What's In A Name?

**_Good evening, my friends! I'm back again! Hurrah!_**

**_Now, who here is annoyed about the fanfiction alert problem? All the reviews you guys make do not appear in my email inbox, and I can't send or receive messages from anybody! Grr! Are you guys all having the same problems as me?_**

**_Anyway, thanks for all the great reviews you made about my last chapter, they were really encouraging. I hope you enjoy the chapter and, as always, big thanks goes to you for giving me the incentive to actually write. I mean, I love writing, but it's your great comments that keep me updating as ogten as I do. Cheers, m'dears!_**

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Jeff waited impatiently at the reception desk as the security officer relayed information to his colleagues via a hand-held communications device. Tapping his foot in an attempt to rid himself of some of his nervous energy, the Tracy patriarch glanced back over his shoulder and puffed out a frustrated breath. He wanted to get back to his sons. Something about the situation just didn't seem right.

"Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff turned back towards the security officer and plastered a calm smile onto his face. The young, muscular man returned the smile, glancing down at the data-pad in his hand.

"Mr. Tracy, it appears that there have been three complaints so far today about - to quote from the patients - _'a shifty janitor'._" he stated, his brow creasing slightly. "We've been searching in other parts of the hospital for this 'janitor', but I'm afraid our attempts have been unsuccessful."

"I understand that, sir." Jeff began. "But, if what my boys have told me is true, and this man _is_ in fact a reporter, he's probably going to be sticking around the areas near to where my sons' are being treated."

The other man nodded, running a hand through his short, black hair and straightening his back slightly. "Do you think it would be alright if we came and had a little chat with your boys?" he asked. "At least, with the ones who actually saw this janitor guy? We need to get a description of his appearance, if possible."

Jeff nodded in understanding. "Of course, sir."

The security officer shook his head, smiling slightly. "No offence, Mr. Tracy, but you're a good deal older than me. It just sounds wrong if you keep calling me 'sir'. Please, call me Josh. And over there, that's Eddy. Hey Eddy, come over here a sec!"

Eddy, who had been standing beside the entrance to the waiting room, turned towards the two men and smiled. Walking over to them, he looked expectantly at Josh.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, a hand immediately going to the small communicator hanging in a pouch on the side of his belt. Josh frowned thoughtfully and gazed off over Jeff's shoulder, his brow creasing even further as he sighed softly.

"I don't know, Eddy." he replied finally. "It sounds like we may have a major security breech."

Eddy looked momentarily flabbergasted. "What kind of breech?" he asked quickly.

"Apparently, a reporter has disguised himself as one of the janitors and is now roaming the corridors with a camera, trying to get snapshots of Mr. Tracy and his family."

Eddy blinked in surprise at this, then glanced up at Jeff, before the light of realisation dawned in his eyes. "Ah." he remarked. "I see. Well, at least that explains the pack of press reporters that have been trying to break through the entrance for the past twelve hours. Stupid gits."

Josh grinned and slapped his hand down on the edge of the reception desk. "Alright, let's go check out the upper corridor." he said. "Mr. Tracy, we'll do a thorough sweep of your sons' floor, then we'll come and have a little word with whichever kid it was who saw this janitor guy, alright?"

Jeff nodded, relieved that they had at least made a small amount of progress. Walking away from reception with the two security officers, Jeff could not help but smirk at some of the shocked glances he was receiving. He understood that it was probably a strange sight; seeing Jeff Tracy being 'escorted' through the hospital by two young and muscular security officers. Stepping into the elevator with the two men, he pressed the button that would take them to the second floor, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the doors slid closed at an impossibly slow pace. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, he waited until the gentle '_ping'_ of the elevator had resounded, before stepping out into the main corridor and pausing to allow a group of nurses to hurry past.

Suddenly, he felt his insides lurch uncomfortably, and an uneasy feeling settled at the pit of his stomach. Blanching, Jeff had the distinct feeling that something was not right. Quickening his pace, he broke off from the two security officers and jogged down the corridor to the left of him, frowning worriedly when the uneasy feeling increased tenfold. Breaking into a run, he charged up the staircase towards his where his sons were being kept. As he neared the top of the staircase, he heard a familiar voice yelling loudly, causing Jeff's blood to run cold.

"Stop it!"

Recognising the panicked voice to be that of John's, Jeff leaped up the final few stairs in a single bound, turning right and sprinting across the few metres of ground that separated him from the set of double doors. Pushing the thin door with a force great enough to tip over a sizable elephant, he stopped short, his eyes going wide.

The sight that met him would forever be engraved upon his memory. His dear friend, Thomas Palmar, was struggling to his feet, clutching at the side of his jaw with one hand as he used the other to push against the floor in a hurried attempt to right himself. A few feet behind Thomas, Scott stood frozen to the spot in shock, although as Jeff watched, he broke into a run, his eyes locked desperately on the two figures nearest to Jeff. Following Scott's gaze, Jeff realised in shock that his second-eldest son was pinned firmly to the ground beneath the body of a tall man. A tall man wearing a janitor's uniform.

Jeff saw red. Striding forwards swiftly and silently, he stopped right in front of the 'janitor', placing his feet shoulder-width apart with John's head directly in between. He saw Scott freeze, mid-sprint, a surprised but relieved expression spreading over his face. But Jeff's gaze was now intent upon the man who, at present, had his right hand pulled back to his left shoulder, clearly with the intention of backhanding John across the face. If Jeff had felt angry before, it was nothing compared to the rage that now coursed through his veins.

"Get your filthy hands _off_ my son." Jeff managed to growl out, resisting the urge to just punch the guy right there and then. But the reporter had his knee on John's stomach, and any sudden movement might have caused him to inflict injury upon the teenager's abdomen.

Had the situation not been so grave, Jeff would have laughed at the _'deer caught in the headlights' _look that the older man sent his way as he glanced up slowly from John's face. Swallowing slightly, the reporter looked from John to Jeff and suddenly realised who he had been pinning for the past thirty seconds. Raising his right hand in a peaceful gesture, he removed the other hand from John's shoulder and the knee from John's stomach, standing up slowly and backing off a few paces. As the weight was taken off the teenager's midriff, John could not help but grunt slightly, gasping in the breath that he had been unable to take in before. If at all possible, Jeff's anger grew in intensity. Stepping around his fallen son, he grabbed the front of the navy-blue uniform with both hands and slammed the man into the wall of the corridor.

"If you _ever_ come near my sons again," he thundered furiously. "I will make you regret the day you were born, is that understood? And I swear, if you've so much as bruised one of my boys, I will hit you so hard-"

"Mr. Tracy!"

Jeff felt firm hands gripping at his arms and pulling him away. Reluctantly, he released the reporter's shirt and stepped back to allow Eddy to grab onto the man's arms with a vice-like grip.

"Hey, what did I do?" he demanded crossly. "You saw what Tracy did, he attacked me! Arrest him, you idiots!"

"We'll call the cops, Mr. Tracy." Josh assured him, moving forward to help the other security officer with the struggling man. "We followed you up the stairs, and we arrived here in time to see 'Mr. Janitor' here about to strike one of your kids. You've got nothing to worry about, sir. This guy is obviously the one we've been looking for. The cops will want to have a word with all of you, of course, but I'll try and keep them away as long as possible. Just stay in the hospital until we get back, alright? It shouldn't take us longer than fifteen minutes or so to fill in the required data forms downstairs."

Jeff nodded his head and managed a tight smile, although his eyes still blazed with anger and fury. "Thanks, Josh."

"Don't mention it." the man smiled, before turning to look at his partner. "Alright, Eddy, let's get this jerk down to the confinement office."

As the two men dragged the struggling reporter back down the corridor and towards the double doors, Jeff snapped out of his trance and darted towards his fallen son. John was still breathing heavily, leaning against Scott's chest as he sat propped-up against his brother for support. Dropping to his knees in front of them, Jeff ran his hands over John's face and chest, looking for any obvious injuries.

"John! Johnny, are you alright?" he asked worriedly. John smiled at him and nodded, sitting up a little straighter and wincing slightly.

"I-I'm fine, Dad." he panted. "Just a little bit winded, that's all."

Jeff sighed in relief, gathering John into a crushing embrace and holding him against his chest. Over John's shoulder, he saw a very pale-looking Scott take in a shaky breath, and immediately detached an arm from around John's back, extending it towards his eldest. Scott smiled as they created a three-way hug between them, the brown-haired boy being sure to keep an arm around his younger brother's shoulders.

"Scotty? You okay, son?" Jeff asked softly. Scott nodded mutely, squeezing John's shoulder just a little bit harder. Jeff released them gently and stood up, before reaching down and helping John to his feet. He was relieved to see that his second-eldest really did seem to be fine, other than being thoroughly shaken up.

"Oh crap, Andy!"

At Scott's cry, Jeff turned in time to see the teenager dart down the corridor and fall to his knees beside Thomas, who was bending over a crumpled figure on the floor. Jeff hurried after him, dropping down beside his son and gasping as he saw the young doctor's bruised face.

"Andy?" Thomas called softly, putting his fingers to the younger man's neck and counting the pulse-rate. "Andy, open your eyes for me. C'mon, buddy, look alive!"

Andy grunted, his face forming a grimace as he opened his eyes wearily and blinked up at Thomas. "Hey, doc." he mumbled. "Sorry, m'not quite sure how to phrase this, but - This time it wasn't actually _my_ fault that I fell asleep on duty, right?"

Thomas chuckled softly, looking thoroughly relieved, and moved to gently touch the large bruise that was forming on Andy's cheekbone. The injured man grunted again, pushing himself up on his arms and sliding backwards until he was sitting with his back against the wall of the corridor.

"Hey, hey, hey. Easy, pal." Thomas murmured, as the younger man moved to stand up. "Try not to move around too much. You took quite a nasty knock to your head."

Andy brought a hand up to the back of his head and winced. "Uh-huh." he agreed, grimacing slightly as he blinked the fuzziness out of his vision. "Note to self; don't stand next to a wall when someone throws a punch at you."

Jeff grinned at the light-hearted remark, putting an arm around John's shoulders as the teenager dropped down next to him. Hearing a gasp, he turned his attention to Scott, who was staring in horror at the fallen doctor. Following his son's gaze, Jeff frowned worriedly as he noticed that Andy was staring at his now blood-coated hand.

"Not again." he complained softly, sighing in exasperation as he regarded the dark red stain on his palm and fingers. Thomas put a finger beneath Andy's chin and tilted his head upwards, taking the penlight from his pocket and shining it in the man's eyes.

"Okay, buddy, you know the drill." he said softly. "What's you name?"

Andy sighed slightly, allowing his hand to drop down onto his lap palm-upwards. "Andrew Thomas Myers." he stated confidently.

"Thomas?" the older doctor echoed, grinning gleefully. "Great choice of middle-name there, pal. Alright. How old are you?"

Andy hesitated slightly, and Thomas lowered his penlight, a concerned frown playing across his face. Putting a hand on the younger man's arm, he squeezed gently and gave Andy a prompting smile. "Andy?" he urged quietly.

Andy sighed and rubbed at the larger bruise on his jawline, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Twenty." he mumbled.

Upon hearing this, Jeff's mouth fell open slightly. _He's twenty? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a second! He told me he'd been working at this hospital for six months. And before that he would have had to go through med school. How old was he when he started the course, if he's only twenty now?_

Thomas, however, seemed unphased by this piece of information, and continued to inspect the cut on the back of Andy's head, apologising softly when the man hissed in pain.

"So where did you do your degree?" he asked lightly, his fingers gently probing the bump as he felt for any irregularities.

"What? Oh - um - Harvard med college." the younger man stuttered. Thomas nodded in approval.

"Good place." he remarked. "Went there myself for a couple of years, until I ditched the full course. Got bored. I took the med exams in Boston med-school, two years before I was supposed to."

Andy grinned delightedly. "Snap. I couldn't stand Harvard. The lectures gave me a headache worse than the one I have right now. I mean, who would actually want to sit in a stuffy lecture room for three hours and listen to a guy stating the obvious about respiratory disorders?"

Thomas chuckled as he moved back in front of Andy and raised his chin again. "Follow my finger." he instructed, moving his index finger from side to side slowly. "Pal, I know exactly what you mean about those lectures." he continued casually. "That's why I ditched course, too. I already knew what they were talking about, it said the same stuff in the reference books. I didn't need any more study-time, I already knew all the answers. Once I'd taken the exams, the NASA training programme snagged me before anybody else could. They wanted a young, eager doctor-in-training, and apparently I fit the bill perfectly."

Jeff, who had been listening to this exchange with a small smile upon his face, turned to look at Andy. "How old were you when you took the exams?" he asked. Andy grinned and shrugged.

"Seventeen." he admitted. Jeff blinked again, and even Thomas gasped slightly. Scott was the first to break the stunned silence.

"Seventeen?" he repeated incredulously. "Dude, no wonder Richard followed you around for six months. With a brain that size, you really _could_ have been the greatest teenage genius of all time."

Andy shrugged again. "Maybe so." he agreed softly. "But it wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to help people, it's all I've ever wanted to do. That's why I surprised everybody by attending med-school instead of taking private tutoring from some of the best scientific minds on the planet. Heck, if I'd really wanted to, I could probably have become someone majorly famous by now. I'm told that my IQ is second to none; like that really makes me such a great person. I honestly don't give two hoots. If my high-school science teachers had been allowed to voice their say, I would have been pressured into taking an advanced degree at the age of nine."

Jeff shook his head. "You were at high-school when you were nine?" he asked.

"Mr. Tracy, I'm afraid I finished high-school at the age of nine." Andy smiled shyly, a small blush creeping onto his face. "I was what the world called 'wonder-kid' at that age. And that's why Richard was so obsessed with me. He gave up following me around just before I took the exams, which gave me the freedom to choose where I wanted to go to continue with my practical training. I guess I kinda got lucky on that one. My uncle was head consultant at a hospital in Boston, so he let me do my advanced practical training despite my young age. I became a fully qualified doctor about eight months ago, and I applied to this hospital 'cause they needed doctors who could handle new technology. I had a degree in mechanics and advanced electronics, one that I took when I was still just a kid, so the big bosses seemed pretty eager to employ me. Although they do enjoy giving me the double shifts, which smetimes leads me to think that- Ow!"

"Sorry." Thomas apologised softly, withdrawing his hand from the bruise of Andy's jaw and smiling. "Right, well at least we've established that Richard didn't cause any severe damage to those big brains of yours. Okay, let's get you down to the emergency room."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Dr. Palmar, I'm fine." he protested quietly, moving to stand up again. Jeff hid a smirk as Thomas' eyes hardened and he placed a restraining hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Well, you're clearly suffering from memory loss, as I'm sure I told you _not_ to call me 'Dr. Palmar' when we were talking together earlier this afternoon." Thomas remarked lightly. Andy grinned and held up a hand in surrender.

"Fine, you win." he sighed. "But I'm gonna be late for my rounds if I'm held up downstairs. Then you'll have to face the wrath of Mark Hilson, who's technically the 'big boss' as far as we're concerned."

Thomas grinned and shook his head. "Not any more, pal. The papers came through just over and hour ago. I am officially the head consultant of Brookfield hospital."

Jeff grinned and clapped his friend on the back. "That was quick, Tom. I bet they were too excited that you accepted to wait another day. It was probably the highlight of their otherwise dull careers, huh?"

Thomas nodded, smiling slightly. "Well, I don't mind that I'm now officially working on earth. I haven't done that since my job in the mega-store when I was sixteen. But hey, at least I get to supervise Andy here. I warn you, pal, I've got endless energy. That's probably why every time I meet up with Jeff, I seem to end up getting a bruised jaw."

As the doctor rubbed at said jaw tenderly, Jeff his a laugh behind a quiet cough. Andy closed his eyes wearily and smiled. "Awesome. You're the first consultant I've ever met with a sense of humour. I think we're going to get along."

Opening his eyes again, Andy made one last attempt to stand up, only to have both Jeff and Thomas restrain him before he had made it even half way. He gazed at them in frustration.

"Oh c'mon, I can't just sit here all evening!" he complained. "And you said you wanted me to go down to the emergency room, so that's where I'm going, _sir!_"

As before, the 'sir' was accompanied with a stiff salute and a hopeful smile. However, Thomas would not be moved.

"Kiddo, you ain't goin' nowhere with that egg on the back of your head." he stated firmly. "I'll go find a nurse and have her call for a stretcher."

"But-" the younger man began to protest.

"I'm still not ruling out the possibilities of a concussion," Thomas continued casually, as if there had been no interruption. "So I want to have you monitored for the next few hours. The cut on your scalp needs to be glued, and you're gonna have one whopper of a headache by the time they've finished asking you questions downstairs, so you're not allowed back on duty until tomorrow afternoon at the very earliest, alright?"

"But - but Tom, I-" Andy stuttered. Jeff chuckled and held up a hand.

"Buddy, take it from someone who's been under Tom's care countless times before." he smiled kindly. "You're fighting a losing battle here. If I were you, I'd just give up now and save yourself from the threat of sedation."

Scott's eyes lit up gleefully, and he butted in with a cheerfully inquisitive; "Hey Dr. Palmar, is it true you keep a tranquiliser gun in your med-bag?"

Andy's eyes went wide as he glanced from Jeff to the now-smirking Thomas. Sighing loudly in resignation, he winced as his bruised face protested the movement and fixed Thomas with a slightly mischievous stare.

"Alright, dude, you win." he said softly. "But I warn you, this means war_. _Remember, you're officially my boss now. I have the opportunity to make your life a living hell."

Thomas and Jeff both grinned at the light-hearted threat, and the older doctor winked at his old friend before turning to smile at Andy.

"Bring it on, kid." he chuckled. "Bring it on."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

John glanced up at the clock on the wall and blinked in surprise. _It's nine-thirty-five already! Man, where did the last hour go? Have the cops stopped asking Virge questions yet?_

Looking up from where he was leaning against the window, John spotted his father solemnly shaking hands with two police officers in the doorway. Scott stood beside him, an arm slung around a sleepy Virgil's shoulders as they smiled their thanks at the cops and stepped back into the room. Jeff stepped out into the hallway to continue his conversation, and the doors gently _'swished' _closed behind him.

Virgil sank into a chair at Alan's bedside, his eyes drooping slightly as he propped his face in his hands and yawned. Smiling fondly, John pushed himself off the wall and rounded the bed, sitting down on the space of mattress in front of Virgil and ruffling his younger brother's hair gently.

"You look beat, Virge." he remarked softly, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken Alan and Gordon, who were both snoozing peacefully. "I think it's time you went to bed."

Virgil scrubbed at his blood-shot eyes furiously and shook his head. "No, it's alright. I'm not tired." he said quickly. John snorted slightly and rolled his eyes.

"Virge, I'm not buying it." he smiled, prodding the twelve-year-old's arm gently. "C'mon. Bed."

A spark of stubborn determination shone in the younger boys eyes as he shook his head again. "I'm fine, John. Stop fussing." he mumbled.

"Virge." Scott warned quietly, turning around in his seat at Gordon's bedside. "John's right, kiddo. You need to go get some sleep. You're still tired from yesterday, and you're practically dead on your feet. C'mon, let's get you back to the hotel."

"Scott." Virgil moaned. The older brown-haired Tracy shook his head and stood up, coming to stand in front of Virgil.

"Virgil, this isn't open for an argument." he said gently. "You're going to bed willingly, or I'm carrying you there. And I'll probably end up falling down the stairs if I tried to do that, so why not do us both a favour and come quietly, hmm? C'mon, sport, you can barely keep your eyes open. It's time for bed."

"But-" Virgil began to protest, hating the fact that he was being treated like a little kid again now that Alan and Gordon were asleep. However, the sound of the door opening stopped him. Jeff strode into the room, looking a good deal happier than he had been before, and smiled brightly at his three sons.

"Good news, boys." he stated softly, coming up behind Virgil's chair and placing his hands on the boy's shoulders, rubbing his thumbs over them gently. "The police have decided that what you did was in self-defence, and with the good intention of protecting Andy. They're not listening to Richard's accusations anymore. According to him, Scott pinned him to the floor with a mop so that Tom could beat the living daylights outta him. And then, when he was trying to defend himself, he '_accidently'_ struck Andy across the face, which caused him to trip over and slam his head against the wall."

Scot snorted in amusement. "What a stupid story." he scoffed. "You'd have thought a reporter would be able to make it slightly more realistic than that, wouldn't you?"

John smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, an annoying question prodding at the back of his mind. At last, he gave into temptation and voiced his query. "Dad, you know earlier when you first met Andy?" he began softly. At Jeff's nod, John swallowed slightly and continued, "Well, you asked if you'd met before, because you seemed to recognise his face. What made you say that?"

Jeff smiled and detached his right hand from Virgil's shoulder, moving it up to stroke the chestnut-brown hair gently. "I'm glad you asked that, John." he said. "You see, there was a time when Andy made headline news almost as much as I did. This was five years ago, of course, and he looked a good deal younger than he does now. But back then, he had a different name."

"You mean his name's not Andy?" Scott asked. Jeff chuckled slightly.

"No, his name is definitely Andy" he smiled. "But back then, it was 'Andrew Thomas Mitchell', not 'Andrew Thomas Myers'. He changed his name when he graduated from med-school so that the press wouldn't follow him around so much. Sadly, there are people like Richard who can still recognise him, but on the whole he's managed to blend in pretty well."

John nodded, wishing that he could do something to change_ his _name so that he and his family wouldn't be highlighted by the press as often as they were. But he knew that it was unlikely his father would ever fall from fame, considering the fact that his business firm was swiftly becoming one of the most successful branches in history_. Wait a second - Dad's business conference! He was supposed to be attending one tomorrow! He must have completely forgotten_.

"Dad." John said, looking up from his hands and gazing at his father worriedly. "Aren't you supposed to be going to a business conference tomorrow?"

Jeff frowned and shook his head. "That doesn't matter anymore, son." he stated gently. "Business can wait until I've gotten you boys back home. You're more important to me than a bunch of paperwork."

John smiled delightedly at these words, earning himself and affectionate hair-ruffle from his father. Jeff sighed happily, before glancing down at his watch. He raised an eyebrow at how late it was, before giving Virgil's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Time for bed, son." he said softly. When there was no response, John looked at his younger brother and smiled. Virgil has fallen asleep with his head resting back on his father's stomach, his face relaxed and peaceful. Reaching forward, he gently patted the younger boy on the cheek.

"Virgil? C'mon, kiddo, up and at 'em!" he murmured. Virgil opened a weary eye and frowned slightly, taking in his surroundings with a confused expression upon his face. Jeff came to stand beside Scott, bending down slightly so that he could look Virgil in the eye.

"C'mon, Virge." he smiled fondly. "Let's get you back to the hotel."

"I'll take him." Scott offered, putting an arm around Virgil's shoulders to steady him as he stood wearily to his feet. "I need to grab something from my bag anyway."

"Thanks, Scott." Jeff smiled, pulling Virgil into a one-armed hug and planting a kiss on the boy's forehead. "See you in the morning, son. Sleep tight."

John stood up and ruffled Virgil's hair, giving him a brief hug. Fixing him with a stern gaze, he smiled slightly. "No reading, kiddo." he ordered softly. "You can listen to music if you want to, but if I walk in later to find you with your head resting on a crumpled page of some sci-fi novel, there'll be hell to pay."

Virgil grinned at the threat. "Got it, Johnny. 'Night."

As Scott and Virgil left the room, John noticed that his father was looking at him strangely. Turning around to face him, John cocked his head to one side questionginly.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Jeff sighed and looked down at his shoes, before glancing back up and smiling. "Johnny, we need to have a little talk. Just the two of us. We haven't done that in far too long. I'm sure there are a lot of questions you want to ask me." He paused, smiling slightly, and began moving two of the chairs into the far corner of the room. "I have a few questions that I want to ask you, too."

Sitting down in one of the chairs, he signalled for John to do join him, smiling encouragingly. John swallowed the sudden butterflies in his stomach. He wasn't the sort of person who liked talking about his emotions, but he knew that both he and his father needed this. They needed to understand each other better. And his father was right, there really were a lot of questions he wanted to ask. Taking a deep breath, he sat down beside Jeff, and together they began the most important conversation of their lives.

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**_In the next chapter, we hear a little bit more of the conversations between Jeff and his sons. Will Alan and Gordon be discharged and allowed to go back home, or will their state of health still be too worrying to overlook? How will Andy be feeling in the morning, and what connections does he have to the Air-Force? And how will this affect the way that Scott views him? Find out soon!_**

**_That's all for today, folks! The next update will be on Friday at the latest, so stay tuned for more family fluff, mystery and drama! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you thought of it, and maybe the review alert will be back up bybthen so that I can reply. Tsk! We all live in hope._**

**_See ya later, buddies! Thanks again!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	22. Chapter 21: Inner Pains and Airplanes

**_It's me again! I know I'm a bit late, but something came up yesterday so I couldn't post in the evening like I'd wanted to. _**

**_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, they were all so positive and encouraging! I know I say this every time, but they really do make me so happy! And it still surprises me that you've all stuck with this story for so long. I mean c'mon, this is chapter 21! This is gonna be my longest fic so far! So thank you, my friends, for sticking with me even after all that I've put the Tracy boys through. And I still haven't received any death threats! Shocking!_**

**_And now, as promised, I am back with more family fluff for you to indulge yourself upon. And I warn you, this chapter does have an element of fluff in it, especially if you're a John-fan. Lots of hugs and cuddles with Daddy-Tracy coming up! I hope that you enjoy!_**

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Jeff regarded his second-eldest child carefully as the blond teenager sat down in the chair beside him. As much as it hurt Jeff to admit it, it was rather obvious that the fourteen-year-old had played just as big a role in caring for his younger siblings as Scott had done. John had always been a mature and quiet boy, even as a young child, and had often been content just to sit and think about things for hours at a time. At the age of seven, when most boys of the same age drifted between being darling little angels and tiny little terrors, John had taken to sitting in the garden on his own and happily reading a book, much to his younger brother's displeasure. Virgil's endless energy had come as rather a shock to both Jeff and Lucy after John's calm and collected personality.

That same personality had lasted throughout his childhood. In fact, the blond teenager was wearing a thoughtful and contemplative expression at the moment as he gazed at the floor with a slight frown on his face. Deciding that it would probably be best to take the direct route with John, Jeff swallowed down the uneasy and guilty feeling within his chest and put a hand on his son's knee.

"John, I'm sorry." he began softly, running his other hand through his hair and shaking his head. John glanced up at him with a surprised and confused expression upon his face.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, his voice equally as soft. Jeff took a deep breath and looked into John's aqua-blue eyes - the one's so similar to his mother's that it caused Jeff's heart to clench slightly - and then let the lungful of air back out again in a long sigh.

"John, I know the past year has been hard on you boys." he stated, watching as the confused frown on John's face deepened. "I'm sorry for everything that I've done - or, rather, everything that I _haven't _done. I was selfish. I ignored you and just thought about myself, about the pain that I was feeling. But I never stopped to consider what consequences my work obsession would have on you boys. I should never have prioritised the business, you were far more important to me than my office could ever be. I just - I just forgot that for a little while."

John was looking at him steadily, an expression of understanding gracing his features. "It's alright, Dad."

"No, it's not alright." Jeff murmured, rubbing his thumb over the denim-clad knee and sighing softly. "It hasn't been 'alright' in a very long time. But that's going to change, John. I'm going to set everything straight again, you hear? There's no need to worry about anything anymore. I know I don't deserve it but - but please, give me a chance to be your father again? I know you probably hate me right now, and-"

John's head shot up and he reached out to grasp Jeff's arm. "Dad, I could never hate you! Never!" he stated firmly, his face open and honest. "Never have, never will. And I've already forgiven you. I'll admit," he added, lowering his gaze to his lap. "There have been times when you've made me angry, but I forgave you then, as well. I understood, Dad. And I don't really care about what's happened since the accident anymore. All I care about is the fact that we've got you back again."

Jeff smiled, taking John's other hand in his and squeezing it gently. "Thank you, John." he said hoarsely, suddenly finding that talking was both a difficult and painful task to achieve. "I don't know what I did to deserve sons as wonderful as you boys, but I promise, I'll do my very best from now onwards to make sure that you know how much I love you. How much you all mean to me."

A small silence fell between them as John looked down at the floor quietly, and Jeff had the distinct feeling that something was eating at his second-eldest child. Squeezing the hand he held once again, he smiled at John when the teenager gazed back up at him.

"I heard you telling Virgil not to read before he went to bed." Jeff remarked lightly. "Does he do that a lot? Read, I mean."

John's eyes brightened slightly, and he nodded his head. "He started reading novels right after the accident." he explained. "I think it was a temporary distraction from everything that was going on around him. If he wasn't painting or drawing, he was reading. I made the mistake of lending him a couple of science fiction novels a few months ago, and since then he's been totally hooked. If I don't go up to his room half an hour after his bedtime and physically take the book out of his hands and turn the bedside light off, he'll read until he drops. More than once I've found him with his head pillowed by the crumpled pages of some book or other. In fact, come to think of it, recently it's been the '_Home Doctor's Guide'_ that he's been glued to. And believe me, that book is definitely big enough to use as a pillow. Scott had to confiscate it a couple of weeks ago 'cause Virge kept reading until midnight and then falling asleep during dinner the next day."

Jeff smiled at the mental picture of the twelve-year-old fast asleep with a book beneath his head. "How about his art? Does he still like to draw as much as he did before?"

John nodded again, smiling slightly. "He's amazing, Dad. Some of the paintings he's done..." he paused and shook his head seriously. "They could really sell, Dad. I don't know how he does it. And his music, he's written such beautiful pieces, and all off the top of his head, too. I was talking to the head of the music department at our old school, and she had wanted to have Virge sent to a music college, he was that good. I've heard him play in the talent contests at the end of term, and sometimes he's stayed behind at school so that he could practice one of the pianos there. Scott and I used to sit outside and listen to him play. He's really amazing."

"He never plays at home." Jeff murmured, more to himself than to John. However, as he noticed John's face fall at the remark, he couldn't help but ask the question that burst from his lips.

"Why doesn't he play the piano at home, John?"

John worried his bottom lips with his teeth and fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt nervously. "He didn't play because he was worried that the music would upset you. Mom loved that baby grand just as much as Virge does, and he thought that, if he played, he'd make the memories more vivid. He just didn't want to cause you any more pain."

Jeff closed his eyes briefly at the realisation that his selfish actions had caused yet another grievance for his one of his children. He made a mental note to bring up the subject with his middle-child later on, just to make sure that Virgil knew he had all the freedom in the world to play the piano to his heart's content.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

Jeff's head shot up and he blinked in surprise at John, who was staring unseeingly into his lap. "For what, son?" he asked, frowning in confusion.

"For allowing Alan and Gordon to get hurt." John replied, his voice soft and wavering. "I should have kept a better eye on them. I should have stopped them from leaving the house. I know how much I let you down, and I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again, I promise."

Jeff squeezed both of John's hands in his own, a concerned frown playing across his features. "John, what are you talking about?" he asked gently. "None of this was your fault, you know that."

John sucked in a shaky breath, keeping his gaze focused on the blue denim of his jeans. Jeff rubbed his thumbs gently over the top of the teenager's hands, giving his son the time he needed to think about what he'd said. After a few moments, Jeff felt the hands grip onto him a little more tightly, as John fought to control his emotions.

"It was so hard, Dad." he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To watch as you slipped further and further away from us, not knowing if we'd ever get you back. To wake up every day wondering if I was gonna walk into your office and find a note telling us that you'd gone away again for another conference. And every time I talked to you, it was like I was addressing a complete stranger. Not only that, but I saw how you were beginning to lose yourself in your work. It started out as a means of distraction, but it soon became an obsession. I was worried we were going to lose you completely, that soon work would be the only think you thought about. Scott kept telling me that you would snap out of it one day, but I knew that he didn't really believe it himself."

Blue eyes brimming with tears, were lifted as Jeff reached out to cup John's cheek. Jeff found that breathing had now become a hard task to perform, and he struggled to keep his own tears at bay as he gazed into the pain-filled orbs of his second-eldest child. A single tear slipped from the salty pool, running down John's cheek until it was intercepted by Jeff's thumb and brushed away. John sniffed and averted his gaze, although Jeff's hold on his cheek prevented him from turning away completely.

"Scott and I did our best to look after the other guys." John continued shakily. "Scott was more of the father-figure than I was. But I listened to the others if when they were upset or angry about something. And I helped with the cooking, of course. Scott wasn't so good at that."

A watery smile graced the blond's features, and he sighed slightly. Jeff, who had been regarding his son with a fond and understanding expression, reached out his other hand so that he cupped John's face gently.

"Your mom would be so proud of you." he said hoarsely, unable to prevent the tears from pooling in his own eyes. "And so am I. You don't know just how special you are. You're my son, Johnny, and I love you and your brothers more than any other treaures in the world."

As if the floodgate had been opened, John suddenly lost his hold on the turmoil of emotions within him. Jeff moved so that he was sitting on the very edge of his seat, and gathered John into a loving embrace. The teenager cried softly onto his shoulder, his ragged breaths the only sound that penetrated the silence of the room. Jeff smoothed down the soft blond hair and kissed John's temple, feeling the slight frame lean into him, begging for the comfort that it had been denied for over thirteen months. And Jeff happily gave all the comfort he could give. John clearly didn't hate him, and that was the only thing he cared about right now.

After a few minutes, John lifted his head off his father's shoulder and wiped at his eyes, still leaning against Jeff's side. "I'm sorry for blubbering like a baby." he mumbled, sniffing slightly. "It's just-"

"Don't be ridiculous, John." Jeff murmured softly, lacing his fingers through his son's blond hair. "I would've been rather worried if you _hadn't_ shed a few tears over what's happened recently. And you're still just a kid, son. You're not supposed to be able to handle these things so easily. Just relax now, I've got you."

John sighed contentedly and leaned his head on Jeff's shoulder once more. For a long while, neither Tracy shifted in their positions, both listening and feeling each other's steady breathing. At last, Jeff looked up as the doors to the room '_swished' _open and Scott strode in. He froze, a concerned expression swiftly sliding into place, as he spotted his father and brother sitting in the corner of the room together.

"Is everything alright?" he asked worriedly. Jeff smiled and glanced down at John, who was now snoozing quietly with his head pillowed on Jeff's shoulder.

"Yeah, Scotty." he replied softly, running his fingers over the smooth skin of his son's peaceful face. "Everything's fine."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Gordon eyed the doctor warily as he ran a strange-looking device up and down his leg. It would emit a high-pitched beep occasionally, and the older man would press a few buttons, mumble to himself, and then begin again. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the man handed the device back to the nurse and smiled down at him. Gordon managed a small smile in return, leaning more deeply into his father's side as Jeff supported him on the bed.

"Well, the good news is that you're bone marrow cells seem to be regenerating at the predicted speed." he stated. "If all goes well, you should be able to have the cast removed in six weeks."

Gordon, who had pulled a confused face at the words 'bone marrow' and 'regenerating', sighed in resignation when the doctor announced his fate. He wished that he didn't have to wear the cast for so long, but on the other hand he knew hat he was getting off lightly_. _Most breaks required twelve weeks in plaster, or so he had been told. He knew that it had something to do with a special sort of laser that they'd used in surgery to seal his broken leg back together again, but he wasn't quite sure how it had helped. Virgil had tried explaining it to him, but it hadn't really made much sense.

Looking back up at the doctor, he put on a winning smile. "Will I be allowed to go home now?" he asked hopefully. The middle-aged man glanced up from the data-pad and chuckled slightly.

"I think we'll keep you in until the afternoon." he stated. "Just to make sure that your fever doesn't spike like your brother's did last night. It's still hasn't completely gone yet, so you'll need to take it easy for a few days, okay?"

Gordon nodded mutely, glancing over to where Alan was happily playing a game of 'snap' with Scott and Virgil. Now that his fever had finally broken, the five-year-old was looking a lot more cheerful than he had been before. Gordon hoped that the worst of his brother's illness was over. Last night had been rather frightening, as it had taken Dr. Palmar and the nurses over an hour to get Alan's fever back down again. But now that his temperature had been lowered, it seemed to be staying that way. With any luck, the nurse had told him, the fever would be completely gone by the end of the day.

"Gordon?"

The copper-haired boy glanced up at his father and smiled. "Yup?"

"I love you." Jeff stated affectionately. Gordon grinned and snuggled into his father's side once more.

"I love you too, Dad." he replied, watching as the doctor waved goodbye and left the room. Just as the doors were about to slide shut behind him, they opened again, and another figure stepped into the room. Wearing a casual shirt and jeans, he smiled down at Gordon and winked.

"You're looking better, pal." he remarked. "How're you feeling?"

"Good, thanks." Gordon smiled. Then he frowned slightly, remembering what his father had told him about the confrontation with the reporter. "How's your head?"

Andy rubbed the back of his scalp and grimaced slightly. "Well, it's been better." he admitted. "But it's not too bad."

Jeff, who had been eying the young doctor with raised eyebrows, glanced down at his watch. "Andy, didn't Tom tell you not to come back here until this afternoon? he inquired lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The other man glanced nervously towards the door, as if expecting said person to suddenly walk into the room. Then, turning back towards the Tracy family, he smiled cheekily. "Well, he said not to return to duty until this afternoon. And _technically_, I'm not actually on-duty at the moment. See? No scrubs. No doctor's coat. Nope, I'm not on-duty."

Scott and Virgil both laughed at the triumphant expression on the young man's face. Jeff just shook his head and sighed. "You really shouldn't test him, Andy." he smiled. "I know from experience that he doesn't like it when his patients go walkies without his bidding."

Andy's grin widened, and he shrugged casually. "Well, I did warn him that I had the power to make his life a living hell."

At that moment, the doors opened and John stepped into the room. He smiled at his family, then spotted Andy at the foot of Gordon's bed and began to laugh softly, a mischievous grin spreading over his face. Andy frowned in his direction.

"What?" he asked. "What is it? Dude, you're worrying me here. What's wrong, is there something on my face?"

John composed himself and headed across the room to Alan's bed, where he reached out a hand to smooth down his baby brother's blond hair. "Andy, if I were you, I'd find a place to hide pretty quick." he stated.

Andy's frown deepened in confusion. "Why?"

"No reason." John said lightly, sitting down on the bed and putting an arm around Alan's shoulders. "Oh, other than the fact that Dr. Palmar is about to walk through those doors."

A look of surprise and worry passed over Andy's face, and he closed his eyes and grimaced as the familiar '_swish' _of the doors echoed ominously through the room. He opened one eye, still keeping the other tight shut, when there was no immediate rebuke from the doorway. Turning around slowly, he faced a calm-looking Thomas and smiled.

"Hi." he said casually, as the Tracy boys tried to hide their laughter behind their hands. "How's it hangin'?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow, slowly bringing his wrist up to meet his face and making a show of peering intently at his watch. "Hmm." he said thoughtfully. "I think my watch must be _very _slow, Andy. According to this, it's only nine o'clock, and I specifically recall telling you _not_ to come back to the hospital until this afternoon. It must be wrong, because you wouldn't have deliberately gone against my instructions now, would you?"

Jeff bit his lip against the bark of laughter that threatened to burst out from deep within his chest. He could see that his old friend wasn't angry in the slightest about Andy having gone against his instructions. However, the older doctor was clearly finding immense enjoyment in teasing the younger man, and Jeff recognised his tone as being the same one that he'd often used on patients that he was particularly fond of.

Andy seemed to realise this, and his body visibly relaxed. Glancing down at his own watch, he gasped, feigning a look of utter surprise. "My goodness, is it only nine o'clock?" he asked himself loudly. "I could have sworn that it was the afternoon the last time I checked!"

Thomas' lips twitched slightly and his eyes danced merrily, but he managed to keep his facial expression neutral. "Andy, what are you doing here?"

Andy looked down at his body and waved his hands in the direction of his feet. "Standing." he replied.

Scott, Virgil and Gordon nearly killed themselves laughing, and even Jeff found it exceedingly difficult to hold in his amusement as he hid a laugh behind a loud cough. Thomas merely raised his other eyebrow.

"Ah yes, I see that now." he smiled. "Thank you for informing me."

"You're welcome." Andy said cheerfully. Thomas rolled his eyes and stepped up to the younger doctor, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him around the bed to sit in a vacant chair. Standing in front of him, he put his fingers beneath the doctor's chin and lifted his head, taking out a penlight from his coat pocket and flashing it in his eyes.

"So how are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

Andy grinned. "Wonderful. Can I go back on duty now?"

"Maybe." Thomas replied evasively. "We'll just have to wait and see. How's the headache?"

The younger man shrugged. "I've had worse. I once fried the mainframe of my G-42 bottleneck when I was trying to fix the circuitry, and that blasted me off the ladder and out of my senses for a couple of hours. Now _that_ was a painful experience."

"You have a G-42?" Scott asked excitedly. Andy glanced over at him.

"You actually know what that is?" he inquired, sounding pleased.

"What, are you kidding? The G-42 designs are awesome!" Scott grinned. "How old is she?"

Andy smiled fondly, clearly thinking of his aircraft as his eyes glazed over slightly. "She's one of the original designs. My Dad bought her the day after I was born." he said. "Mom wasn't so happy about it; said that he he had no way of knowing that I'd even like flying when I was older. But he was right, as usual. When I was eight, I went sneaking out of the house and walked two miles to the airfield where Dad owned a small hanger. I decided that I didn't need lessons, that reading about the design specifications on-line had been enough to give me all the knowledge I required to fly solo."

Jeff grinned when a familiar image came to mind. "Scott did the exact same thing when he was ten." he stated. "Scared me half to death. And that was _before_ he tried to land the jet."

Andy raised an eyebrow at Scott. "Touch-down didn't go so well, I gather?"

Scott grimaced, blushing slightly. "Well, I did manage to land the aircraft, it's just - um -"

"He just landed with such a jolt that he knocked his head against the flight-control panel and gave himself a concussion." Thomas interjected, grinning as Scott turned a deep shade of pink. "I was staying over with Jeff and the family at the time. Good thing, too. Jeff all but had a heart attack when he saw the blood."

Andy chuckled, wincing slightly as Thomas probed the bruise on his cheekbone with gentle fingers. "Well, I guess I win then." he grinned. "My landing was perfect. Didn't really make any difference, though. Dad still blew a fuse."

"Snap." Scott grinned. Alan's head shot up, a confused expression plastered across his face.

"Scotty, you cheated! You have to put your hand on the cards when you say 'snap'!" he said crossly. There was a moment of confused silence, before everyone realised what the youngest Tracy was referring to, and burst out laughing. Alan frowned at each of them in turn, before crossing his arms over his chest, his bottom lip jutting out in a moody pout.

"Aaw, Sprout, we weren't making fun of you." John soothed, seeing the upset and grumpy expression on his baby brother's face. "Don't look so glum, chum!"

The familiar phrase caused the younger blond to giggle slightly, and he sat back against his pillows with a happier expression upon his face. Jeff smiled at the sight, before refocusing his attention on the two doctors beside the bed.

"Do I get the all-clear?" Andy asked hopefully, as Thomas dropped his hands from the younger man's bruised face and fiddled absent-mindedly with his stethoscope.

"Oh, I suppose so." Thomas sighed in a long-suffering tone. The he smiled. "The shift-change is in twenty-five minutes. Tell Dr. Ainsley that he doesn't have to work a double shift after all."

Andy grinned and leaped to his feet. "Awesome!" Then, composing himself somewhat, he smiled gratefully at the older doctor. "Thanks, doctor-"

"If you call me 'Dr. Palmar' one more time, I will definitely proclaim you unfit for duty." Thomas said sternly, although there was a sparkle in his eye that belied the firmness of his tone.

Andy grinned apologetically, before glancing down at his watch. A small smile spread slowly over his face as he raised his eyes to meet Jeff's. Jeff was reminded of the way his eldest son looked when he had just thought of a very good idea.

"Mr. Tracy," the young doctor began. "Would you mind if I kidnapped Scott for twenty-five minutes?"

Jeff blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

Andy grinned. "Well I was just thinking, if Scott likes G-42 bottlenecks as much as I do, then maybe he'd like to take a look at some other aircraft? There's an airbase about a mile and a half from here, where I'm taking part in an advanced training course. I'm hoping to take the Air-Force preliminary exam in a couple of years, so that I can become the base-medic at Boston's Air-Force base. I would have taken the position earlier, but they require at least four years of practical experience in the field of medicine."

Scott eyes were wide with excitement, and he was sitting up, fully alert, at the end of Alan's bed. "You wanna join the Air-Force?" he asked delightedly. "Dude, that's awesome!"

Andy grinned. "I take it that you're also interested in this career choice, then?"

Scott nodded. "Guilty as charged." he smiled. Turning to look at his father, he flashed his best 'puppy-dog' eyes towards the older Tracy and smiled hopefully. "Can I go, Dad? Please?"

Jeff laughed at how his - usually - mature and grown-up son was now acting as if he were six instead of sixteen. Heck, he was practically bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement.

"Virgil and John are welcome to come too, if they want." Andy continued. "But I'd probably lose my job - and my head - if the hospital management board found out that I'd taken Alan and Gordon with me. I'm afraid they'll have to stay here."

"What d'you say, boys?" Jeff asked, looking towards his three eldest children. "Fancy a trip to the airfield?"

John and Virgil both nodded. Scott gave a thumbs-up sign, before glancing down at Alan. "Is that alright, Sprout? Will you be okay here with Dad for a while?"

Alan nodded his head, flashing Jeff a delighted grin. "Now I can talk to Daddy without one of you guys sitting on my bed and squishing my feet."

Scott laughed at his baby brother's reply, ruffling Alan's blond hair. Then he turned to look at Gordon. "What about you, Gordo? You don't mind me going, do you?"

"That's fine by me." Gordon grinned. "Planes suck, anyway. Boats rule."

Scott stood up, shaking his head sadly. Turning towards Andy with a serious expression, he sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid he's a lost cause."

Jeff chuckled softly and hugged Gordon tighter to his side. "Alright, boys, I'll see you later." he smiled. "Have a nice time. And _behave_."

"Yes, Dad." the three voices drawled in unison. Andy, Virgil and John disappeared out of the door, and Scott stayed behind long enough to drop a quick kiss on Alan's head and ruffle Gordon's copper locks.

"See you later, guys!" he said cheerfully, jogging towards the doorway. Just as the doors were about to close behind him, Jeff called out to him.

"Scott?"

Scott's head poked back into the room. "Yes, Dad?"

"No flying the planes without permission, understood?" Jeff said in a mock-stern voice. Scott grinned sheepishly.

"Understood, commander!" he replied, saluting stiffly and yelping as he bashed his hand on the door-frame. As Thomas stepped forward to make sure that he was alright, Scott glanced up at him and waved. "Later, doc!"

Then the head disappeared from view, and the doors slid closed. Thomas sighed and shook his head. "I should never have given him that cup of coffee this morning." he murmured. Jeff looked up in alarm.

"_You_ gave him a cup of coffee?" he asked worriedly. "But - but Tom, _I_ gave him a cup of coffee."

The two older men glanced at each other, then at the door, then back at each other again. They both grinned. "Do you think I should warn the airbase?" Jeff asked lightly.

"Nah." Thomas waved off the suggestion and picked up the data-pad from the end of Gordon's bed. "The worst thing he could do is steal one of the newer models and take it out for a test-flight. Where's the harm in that?"

Jeff chuckled and shook his head. Scott would never, of course, do something as foolish as that. However, too much caffeine always did have a side-effect on his body. When Scott had been younger, the solution to the problem had merely been the act of stopping a hyperactive child from running around the house like a headless chicken. Now, on the other hand, it would be the not-so-simple case of preventing a six-foot-two teenager from running around an _airbase_ like a headless chicken. Andy was in for a fun morning.

Thomas put down the data-pad and smiled. "I'm gonna go and talk the ol' bone-specialist about his notes." he stated, grinning. "I just want to double-check something. I'll be back in twenty minutes or so, and I'll do a full check-up on the boys then, alright?"

Jeff smiled. "Sure thing. Have fun!"

Thomas paused at the doorway and groaned. "Are you kidding? I'll just be given another lecture about the correct realignment methods used on oblique fractures. _Boring!_"

"Better you than me!" Jeff laughed. Thomas shot him a moody glare, before smiling and walking out of the room. There was a short silence, until Alan turned to his father with a confused expression on his face.

"Daddy, why are grown-ups so weird?" he asked.

Jeff pretended to look hurt. "I'm not weird am I?" he inquired, his voice shocked. Alan looked stunned for a moment, before pushing back the covers and hopping out of bed, padding over to Jeff's side and throwing his arms around his father's waist.

"M'sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean to make you sad!" he cried, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Jeff's T-shirt. "Don't worry, I'll make it all better, promise. Don't be sad, Daddy, I'm really sorry!"

Jeff felt a smile blossom over his face, and he scooped Alan up to sit on his knee. "Oh sweetheart, I wasn't really upset." he smiled. "I was only joking. Sorry, little man. Forgive me?"

Alan nodded, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek. Jeff regarded his youngest son for the moment, before looking back towards Gordon. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair. _Well, I guess now is as good a time as any._

Standing up, he sat Alan down beside Gordon on the bed, smiling as the copper-haired boy moved over slightly and put his arm around Alan's shoulders. Picking up a chair, Jeff positioned it so that he sat facing his two boys with his knees touching the mattress.

"Boys, I need to talk to you about something." he began.

"'bout what?" Alan asked, his little face lighting up with interest. Jeff sighed, not quite knowing how to explain things to his two youngest children. Taking a deep breath, he put his hands on his knees and looked into his boys' keen faces.

_Here goes nothing..._

_TBC..._

* * *

_**Will Jeff be able to explain his actions to his sons? Will they understand? Will they be able to forgive their father? How did Andy cope with a somewhat hyperactive Scott? Will the friendship between them have been forged or broken? And will Alan and Gordon finally - finally - be allowed to leave the hospital? Find out in the next chapter!**_

**_Okay, folks, that's it for today. There's more family fluff and fun in the next installment, which should be posted by next Wednesday, if I can find the time in my busy schedule. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW to tell me what you thought of it. I am also intending to feature Andy future stories where appropriate, as I think his character fits in with the rest of the family. Plus, his connections to Boston airbase will explain why Scott chose to train at that particular base, as mentioned in my earlier stories. See? It all fits together!_**

**_Thanks for reading, and I'll 'see' you again (No confusion this time, Spinky!) on Wednesday, I hope. Love ya!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	23. Chapter 22: Tears of Laughter

**_Hiya folks! _**

**_I'm back! Despite the cars that try and kill me, and the college work that seems intent on making sure I have a very limited social life, I have finally been able to update! Yippee! Okay, so I'm about 36 hours late with this update, but I did say that it would only be a 'maybe' that I would post on Wednesday. It's Friday, so that's close enough. Lol._**

**_Thank you for all the great reviews you left me for the last chapter! The made me so happy! And you don't know how desperately I've wanted to update this story since Sunday. VERY desperately, if you get my drift. I was surprised that I managed to put it off until today, but I guess my scary English professor and his 'freaky eyebrows of doom' coaxed me into doing my essay instead. Hee hee!_**

**_Another major 'fluff-factor' warning in this chapter. I've decided that it's hight time the Tracy family were allowed to act like a big fluffy family once more. So lots of giggles, tears and tickles on the way!_**

**_Now read on and enjoy, my friends!_**

* * *

Jeff could have sworn that his heart was beating at fifty times its normal rate. But why? He was only talking to his boys; his two youngest boys at that. There was no reason to be feeling so nervous. However, 'nervous' barely even began to describe what Jeff was experiencing just now. A huge turmoil of emotions rolled around within his chest, causing his heart to clench and making his head spin. And, as he gazed into the bright and curious eyes of the two small children sitting on the bed in front of him, he was also able to identify one particular emotion out of the jumble within him. Guilt. He had never before felt such a crushing weight of guilt upon him, and it was making it very difficult to think clearly.

_They're so young. So small. What makes it even worse is that the last time I really looked at either of them, before this whole incident took place, they were both so very much smaller. They've lived so long without a proper father, without my love and attention. How could I have ever prioritised work over these two? They're both such perfect gifts, Lucy. And I nearly lost them. But it's going to be alright now. I'm going to be the father that they truly deserve - the father I should have been after you died, Lucy. And I'll never leave them again. Ever._

He was snapped out of his own thoughts when he felt a small hand tugging on his three middle fingers. Alan was looking at him steadily, a worried and confused frown creasing his smooth brow.

"Daddy?" the little boy inquired softly. "Are you feeling okay, Daddy? Do you want me to go get Dr. Palmar?"

Jeff managed a warm smile, shaking his head slightly. "It's okay, Alan." he replied, taking the five-year-old's hand in his own and holding it gently. "I'm alright. I was just thinking."

"Thinking 'bout what, Daddy?" Alan asked innocently. "When Johnny thinks, it's usually 'bout something really weird and confusing like math or space or something. And I don't really know for sure, but maybe Scotty thinks sometimes, too. Does Scotty think, Daddy?- 'cause Johnny says that he would prob'ly get a headache and need to sit down if he tried to think on his own."

Gordon sniggered at this, and Jeff had to try very hard not to smile as he nodded his head in interest. "Yes, son." he smiled. "I'm quite sure that Scott does think every now and then."

Jeff paused, remembering what he was supposed to be saying to his children. Taking a deep breath, he quietly tapped his finger against the bottom of the metal bed-frame, trying to figure out how to begin the conversation.

"Boys," he began slowly. "You know that I like to work a lot, don't you?"

Alan nodded his head energetically, playing with the fingers of Jeff's left hand as he gazed intently into his father's face. Gordon's face fell slightly, and he nodded his head a little more slowly, his eyes downcast.

"Well," Jeff continued, noticing the change in his son's mood and wanting to hurry the conversation along before he became too upset. "That was wrong of me."

Alan made no visible response to this, but Jeff could almost see the cogs turning within the boy's mind as he tried to process this information. Gordon, however, looked up at his father in surprise and confusion. Jeff offered him a small smile, before rubbing his right hand over his face and letting out a soft sigh.

"Now, I know that I haven't spent very much time with you over the past few months." he stated, cringing inwardly at his own words. _Well that's the understatement of the century._ "And I'm sorry for that, I really am. But I promise that from now on, no matter what, we'll be spending loads of time together, alright?"

"You mean you might be able to have dinner with us sometimes?" Alan asked excitedly. Jeff managed another smile, ruffling the soft blond hair.

"Yes, Alan." he promised. "Everyday."

Alan's eyes widened with joy, and he wore a grin that could have belonged to the happiest five-year-old on the planet. Then he paused, frowning thoughtfully, and shook his head.

"No, Daddy." he disagreed. "Not _everyday, _'cause you have to go to the conferences for your work and stuff, so you won't be able to have dinner with us _all_ the time."

Jeff realised that his youngest son was right. Although he desperately wanted to spend as much time with his sons as possible, attending the occasional conference would be something that he could not avoid. However, he would no longer plan conferences merely for the sake of discussing his new business propostions away from home, as he had been doing over the past thirteen months. He would not agree to take part in every discussion or board meeting that took place. In his opinion, his sons came first, and that was just how it was going to be.

"Well, I'll tell you what," Jeff smiled, resting his forearms on his knees as he leaned in towards his children. "We'll make a little deal, okay? Unless it's a really, _really _important conference that I absolutely _have _to go to, I'll do all of my work at home from now on. I'll use the vid-comm for the minor conferences, and only travel to Boston overnight if they really need me to be there. That way, I can still spend a lot of time with you boys, and I'll be able to eat dinner with you _almost_ everyday."

Alan pushed himself onto his knees and shuffled to the edge of the bed, opening his arms as he fell forward onto Jeff's chest and hugged him tightly. Then the little arms encircled Jeff's neck as Alan reached up to plant a wet kiss on his cheek.

"You mean it, Daddy?" he asked breathlessly. "You'll get to play with us and everything?"

Jeff chuckled softly and nodded, wrapping his own arms around the small frame and hugging him tightly. "You betcha, kiddo."

Alan leaned his head against the older man's chest and sighed contentedly. Jeff looked down at him and smiled, before looking back up at Gordon and frowning slightly in concern. He was worried about the older boy, who had not yet raised his head and was still staring silently into his lap. Feeling a little disheartened at seeing his second-youngest so quiet and distant, Jeff took another deep breath and returned his attention to the five-year-old who was perched happily upon his knees, his little fingers tracing the tiny stitches on the hem of Jeff's T-shirt.

"Allie?" he asked softly, smiling as the boy looked up at him. "Do you forgive me for being so silly and doing all that work in my office, when I should have been looking after you and your brothers? I really am very sorry, son. And I promise that it won't happen again. Forgive me?"

Alan nodded enthusiastically. "Love you, Daddy." he grinned, giving Jeff another hug and kissing his chest. Jeff felt his own face split into a grin.

"Alright, my little man." he smiled, lowering his mouth to the boy's ear as he spoke. He grinned as Alan giggled, and tried to squirm away. "Why don't you go watch some more cartoons on TV whilst I have a little chat with your brother? You remember how to turn it on?"

"Uh-huh!" Alan replied with a slight croak, hopping off his father's lap and padding over to his bed. "Scotty showed me how."

He pulled himself back onto the mattres and stood to his feet, reaching up on tip-toes in order to grab hold of one of the handles that were connected to either side of the TV screen, pulling on it and swinging it down to a lower level. Then he plopped back down onto the white sheets and pressed the 'ON' button, putting the headphones over his ears and settling back into the pillows just as another episode of 'Loony Tunes' began to play on the screen. Alan smiled and was immediately absorbed in the programme, all thoughts of the outside world being forgotten in an instant.

Smiling at the sight, Jeff turned around slowly in his chair to face Gordon. Leaning in close, he grasped his son's hands gently. "What's the matter, kiddo?" he asked softly. Gordon made no verbal response, but there was a very audible sniff and Jeff noticed that the boy's bottom lip was beginning to tremble.

"Hey." the Tracy patriarch murmured soothingly, moving so that he sat down on the mattress beside the ten-year-old. "Hey, hey, hey, hey. What's wrong, champ?"

Gordon looked up at his father, his emerald-green eyes now shining with tears. That was all Jeff needed to see before he had scooped the boy up gently and settled him on his lap, being careful to position his cast so that Gordon's foot would be supported by the mattress. Gordon latched onto him with his right hand and visibly relaxed, although Jeff could hear the tell-tale sound of suppressed sobs as Gordon's breath hitched repeatedly.

"Shh." Jeff whispered. "It's okay, I got you. It's alright. Tell me what's wrong, Gordy."

Gordon wiped his eyes with his good arm and let out a shaky breath. "M'sorry, Dad." he mumbled. "S'just I - well I - I'm just glad that you're not gonna work so much any more, that's all."

Jeff smiled at the comment, but he knew that this was not the only thing his son was thinking about. "What else, kiddo?" he asked softly. Gordon shrugged, then wiped at his eyes again and sniffed.

"Dunno." he replied. "I was - I just-" he paused and shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry."

_Not another one. Why are they so intent on apologising to me, despite the fact that they've done nothing wrong?_ Instead of saying this, though, Jeff merely frowned questioningly and brushed away the tears from Gordon's cheeks.

"Sorry about what, buddy?" he inquired. Gordon leaned against him and shuddered.

"Sorry for running away, and for letting Allie get hurt." he replied, his voice so quiet that Jeff could barely hear him. "Scotty had told me not to, but I disobeyed him and - and I really am sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to make you guys worry so much. I didn't know the storm was gonna come so early, honest!"

Jeff hugged his son tightly, before gently gripping Gordon's chin in one hand as he gazed into the bright green eyes. "Listen to me carefully, Gordon." he said softly. "Everything that happened the other night was an accident. It was my fault for not keeping an eye on you boys. You're right in saying that it was wrong to disobey Scott, but you didn't intend for things to happen the way that they did. But sometimes bad things do happen, and we can't stop them. The important thing to remember is that both you and your brother are going to be alright."

Gordon nodded, smiling slightly as he wiped at his eyes once again. "Yeah, you're right." he agreed. "I'm being silly."

Jeff shook his head, tilting his son's chin up towards him. "Gordon," he smiled softly, his eyes sparkling. "Which type of fish do I like the best?"

Gordon's eyes lit up as he remembered their old game from his early childhood. "Don't know, Dad. Which type of fish _do_ you like the best?" he asked.

"My own special little fish, of course." Jeff replied fondly, tickling Gordon's tummy lightly.

Gordon giggled and squirmed in Jeff's lap, and the older man chuckled warmly. Yes, it had certainly been far too long since he'd done that. His little fish had returned to him once more; and Jeff was determined never to allow him to swim away again.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"-and then," Andy laughed, his face beet-red as he clutched his knees and fought to keep from rolling off his chair and onto the floor. "And then he turned around to wave goodbye to the Colonel, but he didn't see the toolbox on the floor behind him and he - and he-"

As Andy was unable to form any coherent word after this point, John wordlessly handed a digital camera to his father, whose eyes widened in surprise and amusement at the picture the blond-haired teenager had taken of his older brother. Well - actually it was technically only a picture of his older brother's _legs_. Scott was positioned in such a way that only his legs could be seen sticking up in the air from behind the toolbox. He had clearly fallen over backwards and landed flat on his back.

Jeff looked towards his eldest son, who was an even deeper shade of red than Andy. Chuckling slightly, he handed the camera to Thomas, who promptly burst out laughing.

"And you did all this," Jeff asked, amusement lining his voice. "_In front_ of the base commander?"

Scott nodded, allowing his head to drop into his hands. "I think I just ruined any chances I had of getting a career in the Air-Force."

Andy, who had by now managed to calm himself somewhat, put a reassuring hand on the teenager's shoulder and shook his head. "Nah, he loved you! I haven't seen him laugh so hard in months! Trust me, you made quite an impression on him."

"You made quite an impression on the toolbox, as well." Thomas deadpanned. Virgil and John snorted behind their hands as they tried to hide their obvious amusement. It wasn't often that their older brother publicly humiliated himself, and they were clearly making the most of it.

Suddenly, a beeping noise sounded in the room. Andy slipped his hand into the pocket of his doctor's coat and withdrew a small, compact data-pad. Glancing at the screen, he sighed.

"They've just had an influx of patients down in the emergency room." he stated, directing his comment at the older doctor. "They need all available doctors to go down and assist. As there are two of us on the morning shift, what do you want to do? Do you want to go down to the ER, or shall I?"

Thomas stood to his feet and glanced down at his watch. "Our break's over now, anyway." he commented. "I'll go down. I don't want you getting involved in anything too active. I'm still not one-hundred percent sure that you should be taking this shift at all, but I absolutely draw the line at you running around the ER after that knock you took yesterday. You carry on with the rounds, and I'll be back up here as soon as I'm done, alright?"

Andy saluted. "Yes sir, doctor, sir!" he replied stiffly. Thomas rolled his eyes and sighed, before turning to look at Jeff.

"I'll probably be away for a couple of hours at least." he remarked. "When I get back, I'll see if I can get hold of those release forms so that you guys can head off home."

"Thanks, Tom." Jeff smiled gratefully. Thomas waved as he headed towards the door.

"Just doin' my job, Jeff." he called, as the doors slid closed. Andy chuckled and finished making notes on Gordon's data-pad, before handing the device to Virgil with a hearty wink.

"Knock yourself out, kiddo." he smiled. Virgil grinned up at him, shifting a little so that he sat cross-legged at the end of Gordon's bed. Andy clapped him on the shoulder, before turning to Jeff and sighing softly. "Well, I'd better get back to work. Duty calls, and all that. I'll be back before you leave, though. I'll need to give you the pain meds and antibiotics we've prescribed for Gordon."

Gordon, who had been sitting against his pillows, his head resting on his father's shoulder, pulled a face at the mention of 'antibiotics'. Andy saw this and smiled, heading towards the door. Before he left the room, he paused and turned back to look at Scott, who was seated on the second bed with his arm around Alan's shoulders.

"Oh, and Scott?" he said, keeping his face neutral. "No more cartwheels, okay?"

Scott looked mildly offended. "I did that _once_! And it was in the parking lot!"

"True." Andy remarked lightly. "But you nearly knocked out that Lieutenant who was trying to open the trunk of his car."

The doors '_swished' _closed to the sound of Scott's embarrassed grumbling. John sat down on the mattress beside him and patted his shoulder sympathetically. Jeff just laughed.

"Well," he said finally, once he'd managed to suppress his chuckles. "Now you know why I tell you never to drink more than one, Scott. Maybe when your older, your body will be able to cope with higher doses of caffeine, but I think for now it's safer to just stick to the one cup, hmm?"

Scott nodded sullenly, and Jeff smiled again. The sixteen-year-old still had the ability to look like a six-year-old when he was sulking.

"Hey Dad," John said suddenly, looking up from the portable touch-screen that Thomas had lent to him. "You've made headline news again."

Jeff suppressed a groan, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, before he let out a sigh and turned back towards John. "What's it about this time, son?" he asked.

John scrolled back up the screen, a thoughtful frown playing across his face. "It's just a report about the deal you were supposed to be making with Salenti Electronics. It doesn't sound like Mr. Salenti's too happy about you missing it, either. But I don't know why he's so offended. I mean, you called him to cancel the conference, right?"

Jeff closed his eyes and cursed inwardly. _Damn. I knew there was something I'd forgotten to do. Whoops._

"Right?" John asked slowly. After seeing his father's expression, he winced slightly. "Oh. I see. Well that explains why he's so angry, anyway."

Jeff did let out a groan this time, allowing his head to fall back against the bed-frame. "Oh great. Now he's _really _going to hate me. He didn't even like me in the first place, he just appreciated what Tracy Industries had to offer. And I agree, perhaps combining our resources would have been highly beneficial for the both of us. However, I was going to the conference so that I could _listen to_ his business propositions, not to join our two Industries together. He's acting as though I'd already made that decision!"

John switched off the data-pad and set it down on the bedside table carefully, standing up and rotating his stiff shoulders. "Well, it's a good thing you didn't agree to any business transactions, Dad." he stated.

Jeff frowned at him questioningly. "Why not?"

Smirking slightly, John sat down next to Virgil at the end of Gordon's bed. "Because," he explained. "It appears that Salenti's business was in a bit of a financial situation. The news report said that he's been covering his tracks for months, but apparently it turns out that twenty percent of their resources weren't from authorised sellers. He's had to pay a heck of a lot of money to keep things quiet. People are suspecting that he was hoping to use Tracy Industries to pull his business out of the red area."

Jeff shook his head. "I knew there was something about him that didn't seem quite right. He was always too eager to hurry things along. But cheaters never prosper, so I guess he's got his comeuppance. In business, it's stupid to cut corners. You'll always get found out. And speaking of business..."

Jeff reached into his pocket and pulled out his 'work' cell phone, switching it on and immediately deleting the '_25 missed calls'_ he had received since that morning. Standing up and heading to the other side of the room, he made a call to his head office. The second it was answered, a worried female voice resounded in his ear.

"Mr. Tracy!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Thank God! We've been trying to contact you for days!"

Jeff smiled slightly, glad that it was his favourite secretary on the other end of the line. "Hi, Josie. I'm sorry for not calling earlier, I've been a little busy."

"Of course, Mr. Tracy." Josie said sympathetically. "How are your boys? What happened?"

"My two youngest had to be admitted into hospital." Jeff explained. "Nothing too serious, don't worry. We'll be heading back home in a few hours. How's the baby?"

Jeff heard her laugh softly. "Far too active. I swear he's training to be a gymnast in there. And he likes to train at night more than anything."

"How long until you go on maternity leave?" Jeff inquired, remembering that the baby was due in just over a month.

"So eager to get rid of me, Mr. Tracy?" she chuckled.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Josie." Jeff replied softly. "I just don't want you to overdo it, that's all. Max would have my head if I endangered his baby."

Jeff heard her laugh again. "I'm sure he would, Mr. Tracy." she agreed. "But don't worry, I'll be out of your hair by the end of the week. The doctor has already made me promise to stop working after Friday. Laura will be taking over my desk duties until I'm allowed back. So there'll be the bonus of having a secretary who doesn't crave chocolate-coated raisins and peanut butter all day. Plus she won't need to go to the bathroom every twenty minutes."

Jeff laughed, leaning against the wall and shaking his head. "Believe it or not, I actually liked your random cravings. It made the office smell really good."

Josie chuckled, then sighed slightly. "I don't mean to cause offence, Mr. Tracy, but-" she paused, and Jeff heard another sigh. "I haven't heard you laugh so much in over a year, sir. It's almost as if- well - never mind. Not meaning to pry or anything, but has something happened?"

Jeff rubbed a hand over his face, readjusting his grip on the cell phone and allowing his gaze to drift over to where his sons were chatting away quietly. "I'll call you and tell you all about it tomorrow, Josie. A lot has happened recently. But everything'sfine now. In fact, everything's better than 'fine'. I just called to make sure that you and Max were alright. After all, I have to check up on my two youngest employees, don't I?"

"Mr. Tracy, we're twenty-six!" she protested lightly. "And we're both fine, thank you. In fact, Max has just come into the office now. Probably wants to fuss over me and make sure that I haven't given birth yet. Would you like to have a word with him?"

"Thanks, Josie." Jeff smiled. "I'll call you on Friday. Take care of yourself, alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Tracy." the woman responded, and Jeff could hear the amusement in her voice. "Okay, here's Max for you. I'll speak to you later, then. I hope your sons feel better soon."

There was a slight '_whoosh'_ as the phone was passed over, before another voice sounded over the line. "Hi, sir. How can I help you?"

"Max! Hi. I need to take some time off work." Jeff stated, glancing at his sons as he spoke. Each one of them looked up at him, their faces a picture of barely contained surprise, and he smiled at the sight.

"Sure, whatever you like." Max replied softly, letting out a soft chuckle. "You're the boss, boss. We can postpone the conferences in France for as long as you like. Wilkins has got the exports balanced perfectly fine, and independently we're doing just great. Better than great, actually. The sale in Japan went through without a hitch, so we've more than doubled our transatlantic customer count overnight. Things couldn't be better, actually. So, when d'you think you'll be up to coming back into work, sir?"

Jeff looked at Gordon, his eyes running over the blue cast. A small smile spread over his face. "I'll be off for six weeks." he stated.

There was a slight pause over the line, and Jeff watched in mild amusement as Scott and John's eyes widened in delight. Winking at the two teenagers, he listened as Max stammered a reply.

"Well - um - that's - I mean very good, sir." he finally managed.

"Is that alright?" Jeff asked gently, knowing that six weeks _was_ a very long period of time, especially with the rate of progression his business was making.

"Of course, sir." Max replied, and Jeff could hear the smile in his voice. "You just surprised me, that's all. I mean, you haven't actually taken a day off work since - well - in over a year."

"I know, Max." Jeff said, understanding the younger man's confusion at his sudden change in character. "Lately I've begun to realise just how important my family is. They deserve my undivided attention, so that's what I'm going to give them. But don't worry, I won't completely abandon you. I'll make daily calls to the office just to make sure you're coping without me. And you'll be able to message me anytime you want, the only difference is that I won't be able to reply until the evening."

"Understood, sir." Max replied. "I'll make some calls to ensure that the rest of the staff know what's happening. I trust that you're putting Wilkins in charge until your return?"

"Yup." Jeff agreed. "And I'm entrusting you with the responsibility of updating me on all the business transactions that take place. I want a weekly summary to be sent to me, alright?"

"Got it, sir."

Jeff smiled, glad that he'd gotten the business out of the way - quite literally, in fact. "Okay, Max. I'll speak to you at the end of the week, then." Jeff stated. "Take care of your wife. And make sure she isn't in the office on Monday, understood? She should've gone on maternity leave weeks ago."

"Tell me about it." Max groaned. "Why are women so stubborn all of the time?"

There was a muffled slap, followed by an "Ow!", and Jeff laughed heartily. Clearly, Josie did not agree with this last comment.

"I'll leave you two alone." Jeff chuckled. "Good luck, Max. You're gonna need it."

"Goodbye, Mr. Tracy." Max replied. Then, lowering his voice to a somber murmur, he added, "It's been nice knowing you."

As the line cut off, Jeff laughed again, snapping his cell phone shut and slipping it back into his pocket. When he looked up, he was surprised to see all five of his sons standing directly in front of him, their eyes shining brightly.

"D'you really mean it, Dad?" Gordon asked excitedly. He was leaning on one crutch only, as his arm was still in the sling. Scott had looped a steadying arm around the boy's shoulders in order to prevent him from overbalancing.

"Mean what, son?" Jeff asked, unable to keep his face straight as he smiled down at the happy ten-year-old.

"Are you really gonna take all that time off work?" the copper-haired boy inquired, his face full of hope.

"You bet I am." Jeff replied, and suddenly found himself pinned to the wall as his five sons all stepped forward to hug him. Jeff laughed, feeling happier than he had done in a long time, and pretended to try and fight off the onslaught of cuddles. Scott and John stepped back slightly, close enough to remain part of the group but far away enough for John to pull the camera out of his pocket and take a picture. They stood, chuckling together softly, as Jeff poked Alan in the ribs and the five-tear-old erupted into fits of high-pitched and contagious giggles. Then, after sharing a glance that clearly said "_Why not?_" they joined in the fray and assisted their brothers in tackling their father to the ground.

At last, when Jeff had exhausted himself from fighting off the 'attackers', he held up his hands in surrender. "Okay!" he panted. "Okay, okay, okay! You win! You got me. Now give your old man some room to breathe, before I'm forced to use my secret weapon against you!"

Gordon, Virgil and Scott immediately, backed off, but Alan remained beside their father, gazing at him curiously. "What's your secret weapon, Daddy?" he asked innocently.

Jeff grinned at him from his slumped position on the floor, leaning his back against the wall and beckoning to Alan with his finger. He drew the boy closer to him, as though to whisper the secret into his ear, but instead pulled him into his chest and smothered his face with kisses. Alan giggled again, squirming as he tried to get away.

"Aha! I have you now!" Jeff cried, drumming his fingers lightly against Alan's sides and grinning as the boy's giggles increased in volume. The other four Tracy sons laughed at their younger brother's reaction, and Jeff felt his heart souring to immeasurable heights. After a few minutes, he stopped tickling his son and allowed Alan to slump against his chest, exhausted. He cupped the small cheek in his hand and chuckled softly, before noticing just how warm Alan's skin was. Cursing himself inwardly for allowing Alan to get so excited, he raised his hand to the boy's forehead and felt for a fever. To his immense relief, the skin was only slighter warmer than it ought to have been.

"Honestly, Jeff, you're getting weak in your old age."

The Tracy patriarch looked towards the door; where Thomas Palmar stood with a video camera in one hand and, a release form held in the other. Lowering the camera and switching it off, he grinned.

"They didn't need me downstairs, after all." he explained. "So I came back up here. I heard all the commotion through the door and went to grab my camera from my bag in the office. Don't worry, I'll send you a copy of the tape."

Jeff stood to his feet, the grin still plastered across his face, and pulled Alan against his legs in a gentle hug. Thomas watched them, his eyes sparkling, before he cleared his throat and held up the release form. Jeff spotted it and his grin widened, before he turned around to look at the rest of his sons.

"Ready to leave, boys?" he asked the five Tracy children, smiling as they all but cheered in response to his question. And he agreed with their decision.

It was time to go home.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, we see how our family react to being at home once more. Will everything have returned to the way it should be? And how will Jeff explain himself to Virgil? Will Gordon adjust to his cast, or will his love for the water make it a terrible burden to bear? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Yes, TOMORROW! (I expect you to all be happy at this point. Lol.) I'll have no college prep to do over the weekend, so speedy updates shall be my speciality! However, there are only ''sniff sniff'' two more chapters to go now. ('bursts into tears') Lo. Have no fear! I already have plans for six or seven future stories, and my imagination-tank is still on full! Hee hee!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your feedback. Did you like the fluffy family stuff? I did warn you, so don't yell at me if you didn't like it. I liked writing it, so I don't care. Lol, joke. Love ya guys!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	24. Chapter 23: Sunset Song

**_Hello everybody!_**

**_Yes, I am here once again! Even though annoying older brothers do stupid things to antagonise me (love ya really, J!), I've battled through the difficulties just for you guys! Aren't I wonderful? Lol. Yup, I'm modest too! (Joke, people, I'm not that big-headed.)_**

**_Oh. My. Gosh. I have never before received so many reviews in less than 24hours. I was so shocked! You guys must have been waiting for me to post or something, coz I received the first one about ten minutes after I updated. Thank you so much, my friends! Your comments have encouraged me to keep writing, and update more frequently. It's just a shame that this story is now coming to an end._**

**_This chapter is just another bit of light relief after all the angst we had at the beginning of this story. There will be a few tears, but nothing a nice cuddle with Daddy-Tracy won't put right._**

**_Alright, enough of the chat. Read on, my dears, and enjoy yourselves!_**

* * *

Scott heaved the last of the fallen palm leaves into his arms and walked over to the recycling unit, dumping the load into the chute. Wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead, he stretched his aching back muscles and sighed, glancing around at the pool area. There was no longer any indication that a tropical storm had hit the island. All the vegetation that had been blown down from the trees had now been cleared away, and everything was starting to look like it should.

They'd arrived back from the hospital just over three hours ago, and Scott and John had immediately volunteered to clean up the pool so that it would be safer for both Alan and Gordon to walk around without tripping over branches and leaves. Alan had fallen asleep during the flight back to the island, so Jeff had given him some Tylenol before putting him to bed for a nap, knowing that he was still sick and needed his rest. That had left Gordon and Jeff free to organise Gordon's room into a safer style, so that the copper-haired boy would be able to walk about without catching his crutch on anything.

Scott sighed and squinted up at the blue sky, the heat of the late afternoon sun glaring down upon him. Shielding his eyes with his hand, he stepped back towards the shade of the trees.

"Hey Scotty, watch out for the toolbox!" John's voice yelled.

Scott barely had time to register the words, before his heels connected with something solid and he lost his balance, falling over backwards and landing on the hard ground. He blinked in surprise at the large red toolbox that had magically appeared out of thin air, and stood to his feet, rubbing at his bruised backside and frowning. This prank had 'John' written all over it.

"Say cheese!"

Scott spun around and glowered at John and Virgil, who were beside themselves with laughter as they sat at the top of the staircase and pointed down at him with glee. John held a camera in his hands, and before Scott realised what was happening, there was a tiny '_beep'_ as the blond teenager took a photograph. John composed himself long enough to press the 'save' icon, before leaping to his feet and sprinting off into the house, Scott hot on his heels.

"Get back here you little jerk!" Scott shouted, as John's blond hair disappeared around the corner of the corridor and the younger teenager fled up the second staircase towards his room. Scott scrambled up the stairs after him, his cheeks aching from the effort of grinning like an idiot whilst he was running.

When John ran into his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, Scott came to a halt. Taking a deep breath and mustering up all of his energy, he grabbed the handle and turned it, pushing against the door with all his might. However, the wooden barrier only moved a few centimetres before it slammed shut again. John was obviously sitting in front of the door.

"John Glenn Tracy, open this door _right now_!" Scott yelled, unable to keep from laughing. He loved it when his younger brother acted like a little kid. He did it so rarely that Scott could never allow an opportunity like this to slip through his fingers.

"In your dreams, clumsy!" came the muffled reply. "I choose life!"

Scott feigned a look of outrage, even though John could not see him. "What are you suggesting, John? I would never hurt you, you know that."

"Oh, no!" John said, sarcastically. "You'll just drag me back outside and throw me into the pool, that's all!"

"Well," Scott began thoughtfully. "It _has_ just been cleaned. At least the water will be fresh, right?"

"What difference does that make?" John demanded incredulously. "I'll still get wet!"

"Aaw." Scott cooed, grunting he pushed against the door again, causing himself go red in the face with the effort. "Does Johnny not want to get his feet wet? Poor ickle Johnny-kins."

"Johnny-kins?!" John repeated angrily. Scott bit back a laugh and stopped pushing against the door, knowing that there was an easier way to make his brother play chase.

"Cheer up, space-face!" he called loudly, using the one nickname that always set John off. "Just let me punish you, and then you can get back to sulking in peace."

There were muffled thumps as John scrambled to his feet, and then, as expected, the door flew open. "_Don't_ call me 'space-face'!" John growled, although his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Sorry, Blondie." Scott said with mock-seriousness. John's eyes flashed, and the older teenager patted his cheek gently. "Gotta go. Bye!"

Scott darted off down the corridor, hurtling down the stairs at a rather dangerous speed and sprinting towards the living room. He could he the thunder of John's feet directly behind him, and quickly darted through the doorway, heading for the back staircase that would lead him down to the dining room. However, before he'd even made it halfway, a heavy weight slammed into his back and tackled him onto the couch.

"Take it back!" John cried, pinning his older brother down and messing up his hair. Neither boy noticed the figure standing in the doorway as they struggled against each other, John using his body weight to keep the older Tracy pinned to the couch cushions.

"I said take it back!" John repeated, grinning as Scott tried to fling an arm back to grab him, only to result in him hitting himself in the side.

"Make me, bookworm!" Scott retorted, attempting to throw his brother off his back by bucking.

"Alright, you asked for it!" John stated, detaching one arm from around Scott's shoulders and tickling him in the ribs. Scott squeaked in surprise, shifting so violently, that both teenagers rolled off the couch and onto the floor. John suddenly found himself pinned face-down on the ground, Scott's stronger arms pressed firmly against his back.

"You shouldn't have done that, Johnny-boy." Scott grinned, grabbing the younger Tracy in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles gently into John's scalp, messing up his hair more than anything else. John grunted and tried to dislodge Scott from his back, but the brown-haired teenager had the greater strength and would not be moved.

"Say it, Johnny!" Scott laughed. "Say you're a bookworm!"

"You're a bookworm!" John yelled, grinning triumphantly at his childish comeback. Scott rolled his eyes, smiling, and gave John a harder noogie.

"Okay!" John protested, wincing and trying to pull away from his brother's knuckles. "Okay, okay! Ow, ow, ow - I'm a bookworm! Darn it Scotty, I'm a bookworm! Would - you - get - off - me?!"

"Scott." an amused voice warned from the doorway.

Scott and John both froze, glancing up towards their father. Jeff stood leaning against the door-frame, a video camera held in his hand. He grinned at the two teenagers, then put on a mock-frown.

"Honestly, boys." he sighed. "We've only been home for three hours, and already you're fighting with each other!"

Scott and John grinned sheepishly, and the older boy rolled of the younger, standing to his feet. John grunted and pushed himself onto his knees, smoothing down his hair and glaring up at Scott.

"Bully." he pouted, raking his fingers through the blond locks.

"Wimp." Scott retorted, his lips twitching slightly.

"Clumsy oaf." John muttered, standing to his feet and brushing down his shorts, trying to hide his smile.

"Ugly bookworm." Scott grinned, pulling his brother in for a one-armed hug and chuckling softly.

"Boys," Jeff sighed, although his eyes shone with mirth. "When you're quite done insulting each other, it's dinner time."

"Awesome!" John exclaimed happily, slapping Scott's arm so that the older boy released him from the hug. "Race ya!"

As the blond teenager darted off past his father, Scott smiled contentedly and sighed. Jeff stepped up to him and put an arm about his shoulders.

"What is it?" he asked, glad to see his eldest son so relaxed after the events of the previous few days.

"It's funny," Scott murmured. "A couple of days ago I couldn't have even imagined feeling like this again."

"Feeling like what again?" Jeff inquired. Scott turned to him and smiled, his eyes shining happily.

"Like a real family again." he stated, giving his father a brief hug. "It's good to have you back, Dad."

"Scott?! Are you coming or not?!" John yelled up the stairs.

Jeff smiled and gave Scott a gentle shove towards the door, which was all the invitation the teenager needed before he was running down the stairs after his brother. Chuckling softly, the Tracy patriarch raised a hand to his face and wiped away the tears that had come to his eyes. Seeing his two eldest sons acting in such an easy-going and carefree manner filled his heart with joy. It showed him that the healing process had begun within the two boys. And his two youngest children were also recovering nicely. Yes, there was only one child that still caused Jeff to worry.

Although Virgil seemed as happy and carefree as the rest of his brothers now that they were home, Jeff still felt that there was a distance between them. A distance that he needed to cross before he could truly feel like the boy's father again. It worried Jeff that Virgil had sacrificed so much for him. His music, which had once been one of Virgil's strongest passions, had been forcibly contained and confined by the twelve-year-old so that he did not upset his father. It was time that Jeff allowed his middle-child to release the lock he'd put on his talents. If he couldn't persuade the boy to open up as his brothers had done, Jeff didn't know what he was going to do.

Glancing down at his watch, Jeff sighed. He'd have the conversation with his son later on, once the two youngest Tracy boys were safe in bed and sound asleep. Right now, Jeff had a dinner date with his children. The first one he'd had in over three weeks. He was going to enjoy himself.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Virgil slowly pulled on his pyjamas, his gaze fixed on the beautiful orange sunset that shone through his window. The beautiful blend of reds and yellows. The rich, heavy colours that looked so solid, Virgil wanted to reach out and touch them. The light, wispy clouds that floated over the horizon, their edges tinted red as they drifted aimlessly in the endless sky. This, to Virgil, was true beauty.

Virgil smiled, glancing down at the peice of paper on the desk in front of him. A blank sheet of paper. He always made sure there was one readily available, just in case he found something he desperately wanted to draw or paint. And this beautiful sunset - yes, he needed to capture the beauty before it was swallowed up by the night.

As Virgil's desk was positioned directly in front of the window (this had been Scott's idea), he did not need to move it in order to begin the picture. Grabbing his polished wooden case of oil pastels, he sat down in his desk-chair and took another look at the beautiful sky. Already, one of the wispy clouds had changed shape and drifted a little further to the left. But this only helped to heighten the beauty - or so Virgil thought. Taking up a light orange pastel, he smiled to himself and turned it on it's side, dragging it smoothly across the blank page. And, with this small movement, he was immediately lost in the colours and textures of the pastels, the lines varying from heavy to light, the colours from rich to faint. Suddenly the beauty was under his control. Humming a soft tune to himself, he focused his full attention on the glorious sunset, his hand flowing effortlessly across the page.

...

In another part of the house, Jeff was sitting beside the baby grand piano - the one that he had bought for his wife as a gift on their first anniversary. Lifting the lid, he ran his fingers over the keys, not actually pressing down enough to make a sound, but needing to feel the hard, smooth rectangles beneath his hands. Memories flashed before his eyes. Images of Lucy, laughing as she sat with four-year-old Virgil on her knee, playing 'Chopsticks' as Jeff filmed them with a video camera and grinned proudly at his young son's obvious excitement.

Rubbing a hand across his face, Jeff took in a shaky breath and stood to his feet. He missed his wife. He missed her so damn much. Lowering the lid back down and covering up the white keys, Jeff sighed and shook his head. _Oh Lucy, will this ever get easier to bear? The pain - it still fills my chest whenever I think of you. Is this how it's gonna be for the rest of my life?_

As if in answer to his question, Jeff suddenly felt an pressing urge to go and look in on his children. Almost against his will, his feet moved him swiftly off the raised section of the living room and away from the piano, by-passing the couches and armchairs, and taking him out through the doorway. Walking quickly, he made his way down the corridor and along to the first staircase. Ascending the steps, he wondered where this sudden urge had come from. He didn't understand his need to go and see his sons so desperately, but he obeyed the commands in his heart and walked along the hallway until he reached Gordon's bedroom.

Opening the door quietly, he peered into the darkening room. The light creamy-yellow drapes allowed some of the dim light to shine through from outside, illuminating the room enough to allow Jeff to clearly see Gordon as he lay in his bed. Unsurprisingly, the ten-year-old had changed position since Jeff had put him to bed over an hour ago. He had always been the most restless sleeper out of all of the boys. Stepping forward, Jeff bent over the sleeping form and put a hand to the boy's forehead, checking to make sure that the fever had not returned. Gordon stirred beneath the touch and grunted, automatically drawing his arms closer around his chest and hugging 'Flipper' the dolphin tightly.

Glancing towards the end of the bed, Jeff spotted the light blue cast on Gordon's left leg. Reaching over, he drew the duvet over the limb to cover it up, smirking slightly as Gordon immediately kicked it away again. Knowing that it was a pointless battle, Jeff did not bother to cover it back up, instead pausing momentarily to admire the tiny octopus that Virgil had drawn at the top end of the cast, just below Gordon's knee.

_'That idea of Virgil's was a total stroke of genius.'_Jeff thought to himself, returning his gaze to the copper-haired boys peaceful face and sighing. Shortly after dinner, the true implications of having a cast on for six weeks had dawned upon Gordon, and the ten-year-old (who had still been slightly cranky from the belated effects of his pain medication and from simple fatigue) had escaped to a hiding spot inside one of the storage cupboards and sulked. From what Jeff had gathered from the boy later that evening as he was putting Gordon to bed, Virgil had found him there and had made him a deal. Every other day, Virgil would draw a small cartoon of an animal or an object - anything Gordon wanted him to draw. That way, by the end of the six week period, Gordon's cast would no longer be plain blue, but covered in all sorts of interesting pictures. The younger boy had found this a wonderful idea, and had promptly forgotten about his need to sulk. Instead, he and Virgil had spent the best part of an hour discussing which cartoon Gordon wanted his brother to draw first.

Shaking his head at how so simple an offer had managed to put an end to Gordon's mood, Jeff brushed a stray copper lock from the soft forehead. He smiled as Gordon sighed happily, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on his son's brow.

"Sleep tight, my little troublemaker." he whispered fondly, before straightening back up again and quietly exiting the room, shutting the door carefully behind him.

Jeff suddenly realised that the pain in his chest had all but diminished. In it's place sat a warm, comfortable glow of loving tenderness. Smiling to himself, Jeff shook his head. _So that's the answer, huh Lucy? I lost you, but I still have our boys. That's what you've been trying to tell me. I'm not supposed to try and get through this on my own. We're supposed to get through this together - as a family._

Walking a little further along the hallway, Jeff stopped outside Alan's bedroom door, which he had left slightly ajar. Pushing it fully open, he stepped into the room, his face immediately breaking into a wider smile as he looked upon his youngest child. Alan lay sleeping on his side under the duvet, his large brown teddy bear all but pillowing his small head. Both arms were wrapped around the stuffed toy lovingly, his little legs curled up to meet his chest. He was the personification of the word 'adorable' - at least in Jeff's eyes.

Kneeling down beside the bed, Jeff gently ran his hand over the soft blond hair, stopping when he reached the forehead. Alan's skin was still a little too warm, but he was getting better. He had taken a dose of Tylenol before bedtime, and Jeff knew that it was only a matter of days until he was back to full health. For several minutes, Jeff was content to just sit and watch the five-year-old as he slept peacefully, his fingers twitching occasionally as he gripped onto the bear. After a long while, Jeff glanced down at his watch, then up at the space-themed clock on the wall, it's large face covered in glow-in-the-dark planets and space ships.

_Is it already nine-thirty? Wow, this evening's flow by so quickly. Hmm, Virgil should have been in bed by now. I'd better go tuck him in. Man, will he even let me do that anymore? He's twelve now. Gosh, twelve? What happened to my little four-year-old who used to sit on his Mommy's knee and play chopsticks? Well, I need to have a chat with him anyway. I'm sure he won't mind staying up past his bedtime, kids never do. And I can't really put our discussion off for any longer._

Leaning forward, Jeff kissed Alan's forehead tenderly, before straightening up and exiting the room as he had done Gordon's. Heading back down the stairs, he walked towards the second staircase that would take him to John and Virgil's bedrooms, as well as the three guest bedrooms that he had built since their holiday on the island two years earlier. Striding up to the door, he knocked gently on the wood.

"Come in?" came the muffled call. Jeff turned the handle and pushed open the door, stepping into the room. Virgil sat sideways on his bed, his back propped up against the wall. A large, thick volume lay open on his lap, and the boy had clearly been reading it just before Jeff entered the room.

"Hi, Virge." Jeff smiled, walking up to the bed and pulling the desk-chair to the bedside. Sitting down, he glanced at the book and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It's the 'Home Emergency Guide'." Virgil explained, lifting the book slightly so that Jeff could see its cover. "I figured that, since Alan and Gordon are both kinda clumsy, I'd read up on what to do if something happens to them."

Jeff blinked in surprise. This wasn't the usual book choice for a twelve-year-old boy. But, then again, Virgil had never really slotted into the category of 'usual'. Even as a young boy, he's always had a fascination with things that kinds twice his age were normally interested in. Smiling at the memories that surfaced in his mind, Jeff turned his attention back to Virgil. Noticing a strange orange smear on the boy's cheekbone, Jeff frowned and leaned forward in his chair, reaching out to rub gently at the mark with his thumb.

"What's this?" he asked lightly, looking at the powdery residue it left on his thumb as he withdrew his hand. The smudge on Virgil's cheek had done nothing more than spread a few more centimetres over his skin.

"Oh, sorry." Virgil mumbled, scrubbing at his cheek with a free hand. "I was just doing a few pictures before I went to bed."

Virgil's eyes flickered over to the desk, and Jeff turned to follow his gaze. He was forced to do a double-take, before allowing his mouth to fall open in surprise. Reaching over, he carefully picked up the first sheet of paper by it's edges, staring in shock at the breathtaking oil-pastel sunset.

"You - you did this?" Jeff asked softly. Virgil nodded, blushing slightly and looking down.

"It's not as good as a painting, I know, but it's easier to blend in the colours if I use pastels." he explained, in a matter-of-fact way. "That was only a rough drawing, anyway. I just had to get it down on paper, it looked so beautiful out the window."

Jeff swallowed, setting the picture back down again and taking up another. "Virgil, these - these are incredible!" he stated. "I had no idea..."

Jeff put the drawing down and turned back towards Virgil, leaning forward in his seat and resting his forearms on his knees. "Virge, we need to have a little talk, you and I."

Virgil closed the book carefully, setting it aside on his pillow. "A talk about what?" he inquired softly.

Jeff inhaled deeply, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to figure out a way to start the conversation. Why was talking to his children about things like this always so darn difficult? Glancing over to his right, he spotted the large keyboard where it sat on it's stand in the corner of the room. Noticing the sheet music that lay on top of the instrument, Jeff stood to his feet and walked slowly across the room.

"D'you still play, son?" he asked conversationally, taking up the sheets of paper in his hand.

"Um - yeah - sometimes." Virgil stammered, his face paling slightly.

Jeff frowned as he noticed something odd about the sheet music. It appeared to be written in pencil, almost as if...

"Virge," Jeff gasped. "Did you - did you _write _this?"

Virgil looked down at his hands, which were twitching nervously in his lap. "Yeah, I - um - I'm sorry, it's just something I do in my free time."

Jeff glanced up from the music, and suddenly noticed how nervous and pale his middle-child appeared to be. Realising what his son's line of thought must be, Jeff quickly hurried back over to the bed, dropping down onto the mattress beside his son and setting the music down on the desk-chair.

"Oh Virgil," Jeff murmured. "There's no reason to be sorry at all. Don't apologise, son."

Virgil glanced up from his lap to look at his father. "But - but I thought-" he stammered. "I thought that you'd be mad or upset or something."

Jeff shook his head, putting an arm around Virgil's shoulders and tilting the boy's chin up with his other hand. "Virgil, I'm not mad. And I'm not upset. I'm just sorry that you've been thinking that for so long. Virge - Virge, tell me, why did you restrict your music to just the keyboard? Why didn't you play the piano like you always used to?"

Virgil shifted uncomfortably, his gaze returning to his lap. "Well, it's - it's just that Mom always used to play when she was alive." he said softly. "And I thought - I thought that maybe my music would make you remember her all the time, and I knew how much it hurt you to think about her. I just didn't want to upset you. You were already so busy with work, and I thought that my music might make you want to leave or something. So I just played on my own."

Jeff sighed and cupped Virgil's cheek. "Virgil, I'm sorry for making you think that, son. I'm sorry for being so selfish and ignoring you. I want you to know that you are free to play the piano and paint as much as you like. In fact..."

Standing up, Jeff extended his arm towards the twelve-year-old. "C'mon." he smiled.

"Where are we going?" Virgil asked, stepping into his father's side and gazing up at him.

"You'll see." Jeff stated, grabbing the music sheets and leading Virgil towards the door.

"But - but it's past my bedtime." Virgil whispered. "If Scott finds out I'm up this late, he'll kill me!"

Jeff laughed softly. "Kiddo, you're with me. I'd like to see him try."

Virgil grinned, satisfied, and willingly allowed himself to be taken downstairs and through the corridor, into the living room and up to the raised platform in the corner of the huge room. Jeff steered him around the piano and onto the piano stool, sitting down beside him and raising the lid to reveal the black and white keys beneath. Setting the sheet music on the tiny ledge on the underside of the raised lid, Jeff turned to smile at his stunned-looking child.

"Virge," he murmured, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Will you play for me?"

Virgil swallowed, glancing at the sheet music apprehensively. "Are you sure?" he asked timidly. "I mean - I don't want you to get upset or anything."

Jeff smiled at him encouragingly. "It's alright, buddy." he assured him. "I think we both need this. Do you want to play? You don't have to if you don't want to. It's alright either way."

Virgil took a deep breath. "No, you're right." he agreed. "I need to learn to play in front of people again, or else I'll never be able to perform at school concerts or anything like that. I need to do this."

"Okay." Jeff whispered. "You go ahead when you're ready."

Hesitantly, Virgil put his hands on the white keys of the piano, running his fingers over them almost lovingly. "It's not a very long piece." he stated. "It's just something that I wrote when I was watching the sun setting one night a few weeks ago."

Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes momentarily, before opening them again as he began to play. Soft music filled the stillness of the room, gentle waves of emotion rolling around and filling Jeff's heart with warmth. Closing his eyes, the Tracy patriarch smiled as images once again flashed before his eyes;...

The sun setting over his old home in Kansas, as he waved goodbye to his parents, off to join the junior NASA training course. The breathtaking red and orange sky stretching off into the distance as he stood upon the balcony of his mansion back on the mainland, Scott balanced on his left hip as he laughed and rubbed his wife's bulging stomach lovingly, talking casually with the unborn child. Sitting on the roof of the garage with John, tracing the star constellations with their fingers as father and son shared a moment in their passion for space. Gordon laughing as Jeff lifted him up out of the pool and held him high above his head, twirling him around before allowing him to drop back down into the water. Alan's first unsteady steps along the short grassy distance between Lucy and Jeff as they sat picnicking in the garden one evening, Jeff cheering as the tiny tot all but fell into his arms, his goal accomplished.

Jeff opened his eyes just as Virgil's skilled and gentle fingers skimmed slowly up the piano, the notes ending as softly as the day ends. Smiling, Jeff wrapped his arms around Virgil's smaller frame and hugged him close.

"That was beautiful, son." he said softly, his fingers lacing through the light brown hair. "Thank you."

Virgil hugged Jeff back, sniffing slightly. Jeff pushed his son away enough to look into his face, frowning in concern as he saw that the boy's honey-burnt eyes were full of tears.

"Hey. What's the matter, kiddo?" he asked softly, cupping Virgil's face in both hands. "Are you alright?"

Virgil nodded and smiled, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes hastily. "Yeah." he sighed, leaning his head on Jeff's shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine. Everything's fine now."

Jeff looked into his son's eyes and knew that this was the truth. Yes, everything was indeed 'fine'. Seeing Virgil yawn tiredly, he put an arm underneath the boy's knees and picked him up effortlessly.

"Dad, I'm too big. Put me down." Virgil grumbled, although there was no real fight in his words. Jeff readjusted his grip and smiled down at the boy.

"You'll never be too big, my little Mozart." he stated softly. "Not even when you have kids of your own."

Virgil surrendered, leaning his head against Jeff's chest and allowing his father to carry him down the corridor and up the stairs to his bedroom. Laying the boy down on his bed, the Tracy patriarch pulled the drapes over the window, darkening the room considerably. Making his way back towards the bed, he leaned down and tucked the duvet around his middle-child, pausing long enough to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight, son." he murmured. "Sweet dreams."

As he straightened up to leave, Virgil reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. "Dad?"

"Yes son?" Jeff asked, squeezing the hand gently.

"I love you, Dad." Virgil said softly. Jeff smiled and bent down again, hugging his son tenderly and brushing his fingers over the boy's cheek.

"I love you too, Virgil." he stated. Then, standing up again, he made his way over to the door, stopping momentarily to glance back at his son, who was already drifting off to sleep. Smiling to himself, Jeff closed the door, certain in the knowledge that his family was finally at peace with him once again. The sun had set upon his old self, and it was time to begin a new life with his boys. And above all else, he was determined to be the father that they truly deserved.

* * *

**_In the next (and last) chapter, we see how our family are getting on several weeks following the incident. Is Jeff keeping to his promise about no work? Is Gordon surviving without his precious pool? Are the family still sticking together? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Yup, another update tomorrow! Aren't you a bunch of lucky ducks? (I like that phrase) But tomorrow is the very last chapter of 'The Price of Paradise.' I'm gonna miss writing this story. However, where one door closes another one opens. And I have many doors available at the moment. Lol._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you thought of the chapter. I decided that Virgil needed a little but of time to himself, seeing as this fic centred mainly around Jeff and the youngest two Tracy boys. Did you like it?_**

**_Thanks for reading!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


	25. Epilogue: What Binds Us Together

**_Hi guys!_**

**_Thanks for all the excellent reviews you left me for the last chapter. It's good to know that you all enjoyed it. And you also appear to be just as sad as me that this story is over. But hey, that just means more, more, more in the future!_**

**_Okay, last chapter coming up! _**

* * *

Jeff frowned as he considered the financial implications of the new business transaction. His colleague looked up at him expectantly, seeking advice on how to act in this unexpected situation. Jeff smiled at him and took a deep breath, drumming his fingers on the surface of the shiny wooden table as he bit his lip and weighed out his options. Of course, he needed to make a decision soon, before his opponent withdrew the offer. But he also needed to think his actions through carefully before proceeding. After all, the wrong decision would leave his entire business bankrupt. He had to choose the option that would benefit all areas of his empire.

"Sorry," he stated, shaking his head. "I'm gonna have to turn the offer down."

Gordon grinned and waved a fist-full of pink notes in front of his father's face. "Are you sure, Dad?" he asked. "I mean c'mon, if you don't sell the stations, you're gonna end up losing Oxford Street."

Jeff sighed again, glancing down at Alan, who sat in the chair beside him. "What do you think, Al?" he inquired. "Do you think Gordon's got something else planned?"

Alan nodded his head. "Uh-huh." he stated. "Gordy's always plannin' stuff. And he and Johnny _always_ win when they play this game. Gordy's real good at trickin' people, so maybe he's trying to trick us or something. Right, Daddy?"

Jeff chuckled, patting Alan on the back as the small boy stood up on his chair and leaned over the Monopoly board. "I think he's gonna try and get that hotel off us next." the blond continued. "That's what John and him always does when we're playing."

"That's what he and John always _do_." Jeff corrected fondly, setting his cards down again. "Nope, sorry Gordo. The deal is off."

Gordon shrugged, picking up the die and rolling them across the board. "If you're sure."

Jeff smiled as Alan leaned over and crawled into his lap, resting his small arms on the table-top as he watched Gordon's silver dog move slowly around the game-board. The Tracy patriarch had learned rather a lot about his five children over the past six weeks. Firstly, they were all good Monopoly players. Apparently, Scott had taught the younger three boys the finer points of ''Monopolying'' as he had called it, and it appeared that the five Tracy sons had participated in weekly games. This had come as rather a surprise to Jeff. Especially as five-year-old Alan seemed to understand the rules almost as much as his older brothers did. Jeff had insisted that they carry on in their tradition of the weekly Monopoly game, with one exception - Jeff would also participate, with Alan on his team as his 'assistent'.

Jeff sighed as Gordon landed on 'GO' and held his hand out to Virgil so that he could collect his cash. Virgil grinned at his 'business partner' and handed the money over.

"I think this one's in the bag, Gordo." he stated, moving his chair closer to the copper-haired boy and whispering the next strategy into his ear.

"What's in the bag?" Alan asked, his face lighting up in interest. Gordon smiled cunningly.

"An Alan-eating machine, Sprout." he informed the younger boy. Virgil guffawed, before composing himself and nodding in agreement.

"That's right." he confirmed. "John didn't like the fact that he wasn't the only blond-haired Tracy in the family, so he ordered an 'Alan-Eating Machine' off the Internet to get rid of you. That's why he and Scotty aren't here today. They went to the mainland to pick it up."

Alan looked momentarily shocked, turning to look up at his father with huge eyes. Jeff hid his grin and looped an arm around Alan's front, squeezing him gently.

"They're just being silly, Alan." he assured the frazzled five-year-old. "You know that's not where John's gone. He and Scott went to pick up Dr. Palmar so that Gordon can have his cast removed, remember?"

Alan nodded, turning back towards his brothers and fixing them with a hard, moody stare. "You're mean." he pouted.

"Aaw, c'mon Sprout!" Virgil smiled. "We were only kidding, weren't we, Gordon?"

Gordon looked very thoughtful. "Well," he began. "I'm quite sure that I heard Scotty saying something about an-"

When Alan looked as though he were on the verge of tears, Gordon swallowed the rest of his sentence and leaned forward, ruffling the blond hair gently. "Sorry, Allie." he apologised. "I'm only joking. There's no such thing as an Alan-eating machine."

Alan pouted moodily and crossed his arms over his chest. "I _know _that, Gordy!" he grumbled.

"Aaw, don't be upset, Sprout!" a voice called from the doorway.

"Scotty!" Alan cried delightedly, slipping off his father's knees and running over to where his older brother stood at the other side of the room. Gordon and Virgil also jumped off their chairs, Virgil passing Gordon his crutches before the two of them followed their younger brother at a slower pace.

"Hey, kiddo!" Scott grinned, scooping the boy up into his arms and settling him on his hip. "Did I miss anything exciting?"

Alan nodded. "Gordy's winning at Monop'ly, and Daddy's losing again. He's not as good as you."

Jeff made a noise of mock-protest, before standing up and walking over to give Scott a one-armed hug. "How was the flight? Any problems?"

"Nope." Scott smiled. "Still got a perfect record."

"What d'you mean 'still'?" John asked incredulously, coming up behind Scott and thumping him on the back. "You only got your official licence five weeks ago!"

Scott shrugged. "So? It's still perfect, isn't it?"

"Huh, not for long!"

Jeff grinned as his old friend stepped up behind Scott and poked him in the back. "Move over, Mr. Perfect. There's an 'amazingly wonderful and devilishly handsome' doctor coming through."

"You forgot 'unfailingly modest'." Jeff joked, as he and Thomas clapped each other on the back. "So, how's Georgina doing?"

Thomas sighed and shook his head. His favourite jet, the one that he and Jeff had built together during their free months on earth before Alan had even been born, was officially well-and-truly dead. She had lasted longer than either man had thought possible, so neither was particularly shocked that she had finally kicked the bucket - so to speak.

"Well, she'll make nice scrap metal." Thomas reasoned. "Andy's already begging me to let him tinker with her and fit in a new carbon-syrillium engine, but - well - it just wouldn't be the same as the old model. I'm gonna give her to the airbase near the hospital, see if they can find a use for her parts."

Jeff nodded and smiled, stepping back slightly as Gordon hobbled up to greet the doctor. The copper-haired boy grinned at the older man, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Hey, Dr. Palmar." he said innocently. Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Tom, Gordon. It's Tom." he murmured, before patting the young boy on the shoulder and looking down at the cast on his leg. "Wow." he remarked. "That's quite an impressive collection of cartoons you got there, kiddo. That Virgil's handiwork?"

"Yup." Gordon confirmed proudly, pulling the blushing brown-haired boy close to his side. "Virgil's the greatest big brother in the world."

Virgil turned a deeper shade of pink at the praise, looking down at his shoes. Scott cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow when Gordon looked over at him.

"And what about me?" he demanded playfully, setting Alan down again.

"You're more like a fussy nanny than a big brother." Gordon grinned, as Scott's mouth fell open in outrage.

"Why you little-" he began, but stopped as John stomped on his foot sharply. "Aaah! John, what was that for?!"

"Oops." the blond teenager murmured. "Silly me. Sorry, Scott. 'Two left feet' and all that."

Thomas laughed heartily, shaking his head. Then he spotted Alan standing beside Jeff and smiled. "Hey, pal. How're you doin'? You feeling better than you were when I last saw you?"

Alan nodded shyly, gripping onto the fabric of Jeff's pants and hiding slightly behind his father's legs. Jeff chuckled, ruffling the five-year-old's hair gently and putting his arm around Alan's shoulders.

"He's kinda worn himself out today." he said to Thomas, by way of explanation for the boy's uncharacteristic shyness. "We went down to the beach and played baseball for a couple of hours this afternoon. After dinner, I think I'll put him stright to bed. Do you agree, little man?"

Alan looked up at Jeff and shook his head adamantly. Jeff laughed. "No, of course you don't. How silly of me to suggest such a thing."

Thomas and Jeff shared a knowing look, as did John and Scott. They all knew that Alan's body would disagree with the boy's stubborn determination, and that he would soon be overcome by fatigue. As the family sat down to dinner, they smiled as Alan's eyelids drooped lower and lower with every passing minute. By the time they had begun their desserts, Alan could barely keep himself upright in the chair, his peacan pie lying untouched on his plate as he battled to stay awake.

"Dad, I think Alan's outta battery." Virgil smiled, leaning towards his father and lowering his voice as the other family members chuckled softly.

"Cool, can we replace him?" Gordon asked, grinning mischievously. Scott frowned and gently smacked him upside the head. Gordon glared at his eldest sibling, rubbing the back of his head and raising his other hand defensively."What? I was only asking!"

"Shh!" John hissed, reaching into his pocket. "Don't wake him up. I've gotta get a picture of this."

Taking out his tiny digital camera, he leveled it in Alan's direction and took a photograph, grinning as it appeared on the small screen. "Okay, I'm good." he stated.

By this time, the rest of the family (other than Alan) had finished their desserts. Smiling, Jeff stood to his feet and rounded the table, stopping next to Alan's chair and gently lifting the boy into his arms.

"Scott, can you organise the clearing of the table?" Jeff asked softly, rubbing Alan's back as the five-year-old draped his arms around Jeff's neck. Scott nodded, eyeing his youngest brother with a fond smile.

"I'll go get my equipment from the plane and set it up in the infirmary." Thomas stated, smiling at the sight of father and son together.

Jeff nodded his agreement, readjusting his grip around Alan's legs and heading out of the dining room. Making his way slowly down the corridor and up the stairs, he arrived at the door to Alan's bedroom. Entering the room backwards, he pushed open the door with his hip, approaching bed and gently setting Alan down on top of the duvet. Grabbing a pair of pyjamas, he sat down on the mattress and maneuvered Alan into a sitting position, smiling at the boy as he blinked up at him groggily.

"Hey, buddy." he murmured. "Let's get you ready for bed, hmm?"

With a great deal of effort, and a lot of assistance from his father, Alan managed to change into the pyjamas, yawning constantly and rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. Dumping the clothes in the small laundry basket, Jeff lifted Alan off the bed and drew back the covers, setting the boy down upon the mattress and tucking him in tenderly.

"Cocoa." Alan murmured, glancing around his bed for the stuffed bear. Smiling, Jeff sat on the edge of the bed and handed his son the soft toy, running his hand over the blond hair gently.

"No bedtime story this evening, kiddo." he said quietly, and Alan didn't even bother to argue as his eyes fluttered closed and he let out a long sigh. Jeff bent close to the boy's head, cupping Alan's cheek as he leaned in to kiss his forehead. "Goodnight, Allie. I love you."

"Love 'ou, Daddy." Alan slurred wearily."G'night."

Standing back up again, Jeff bent down to retrieve a few of Alan's pull-back-and-go racing cars, setting them down in a blue storage box at the end of the bed. Putting the lid back on the box, he gathered up a few loose items of clothing and dropped them into the laundry basket, sighing as he glanced over at the sleeping form of his youngest son. It surprised him just how quickly he had forgotten about the events of the last thirteen months. He could no longer imagine a time when he didn't tuck his baby boy into bed. He couldn't remember the nights where he went without kissing Alan goodnight and reading him a bedtime story. The positive, happy memories of the last six weeks had all but erased the work-filled, painful memories of those thirteen long months he spent without his sons.

Flicking the switch on the rocket shaped night-light that sat on a table at the far side of the room, Jeff walked towards the doorway and stepped out into the corridor, pulling the door towards him but leaving it ajar so that a little of the main light would shine into the room during the night. Then, smiling happily to himelf, he strode of downstairs, ready to indulge his second-youngest in some serious pool-time. After all, it wasn't everyday that you were set free from your restraints and allowed to take part in your life passion, was it? Gordon was in for a treat.

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Gordon gazed down at his pale and skinny left leg, which looked positively alien in comparison with the tanned shade of his right leg. Glancing up at Thomas, who was sitting on a chair in front of the infirmary bed, he frowned worriedly.

"Are you sure it's supposed to look like this?" he asked the doctor. Thomas smiled and nodded, packing the equipment back into it's protective casing.

"It's only so skinny because you haven't used it in six weeks." he explained. "And it's pale because the cast has been blocking out the light. Don't worry, in a week or so it'll be good as new."

Gordon smiled, satisfied, and looked up at his father, who sat on the bed beside him, an arm around his shoulders. "Can we go now, Dad?" he asked excitedly. "Please?"

Jeff chuckled softly, hopping off the bed and picking up Gordon crutches. "C'mon then." he smiled, handing them to the young boy. Gordon took them and frowned.

"But - but Dad, I don't need to use these anymore." he stated in confusion, glancing at the doctor for confirmation.

"Sorry, buddy." Thomas smiled sympathetically. "But I'm afraid that you'll have to use them on and off for another week or so, depending on how quickly your muscles strengthen. Trust me, you're gonna be a little unsteady for a few days at least. And your leg's gonna feel _really _weird."

Gordon nodded, sliding off the bed and landing on his right foot, before tentatively placing his left upon the floor and putting some weight on it. Frowning at the sensation - which was almost as alien to him as the leg itself - he took a small step without the crutches, almost collapsing onto Thomas as his weak limb wavered underneath him. Jeff caught him just in time, shaking his head.

"Gordon, use the crutches." he instructed. "We'll try some more walking after you've had a dip in the pool."

Gordon's face lit up at the mention of the word 'pool', and he swiftly made his way to the door, a grin plastered across his face. "I'll go change." he stated, before disappearing off down the corridor.

Jeff smiled and clapped Thomas on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming out here to do it, Tom." he said sincerely.

Thomas waved off the apology and grinned. "Ah, it was nothing." he smiled. "I wanted an excuse to come and see you guys, anyway. Plus, as you may recall, you had a certain amount of trouble with the media the last time you visited the hospital. I figured that this was the easiest way to get around that problem."

Jeff nodded as Thomas stood to his feet, and together they made their way down the corridor and towards the front of the house. Jeff caught his friend's arm and brought them to a halt.

"Hey Tom, I was just thinking." he began casually.

"Uh-oh." Thomas deadpanned. "We're all doomed."

Jeff frowned at him, before smirking and continuing on down the corridor. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to spend the night in one of the guest bedrooms. I mean, Scotty will be more than happy to fly you back to the mainland, I'm sure. I just wondered if you'd like to spend some more time with the boys, that's all."

Thomas' face fell slightly. "Wish I could, Jeff." he said sadly. "But I have the early morning shift tomorrow. Andy's already covering for me today, and I can't ask him to do it again. Besides, I'm chief consultant. Days off are hard to come by."

Jeff nodded in understanding. "I'll call you later in the week, then. There are a few things I've been thinking about recently. You'll probably think I'm mad, but hey! Who cares? You already think that anyway."

Thomas grinned and nodded. "Yup, I do."

Jeff clapped his friend on the back. "Have a safe flight home, Tom." he smiled. "And don't let Scott drink any more coke. Two glasses is the absolute maximum. I've found that that a combination of caffeine and sugar is _never_ a good thing when it enters his metabolism. Keep him off the caffeine, or he'll be doing nose-dives into the Pacific."

"Ah, don't sweat it." Thomas smiled, walking towards the west wing of the house, where the passageway to the airplane hangers was situated. "I taught him everything I know!"

Sighing, Jeff shook his head and smiled. "That's what I'm worried about, Tommy-boy."

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Gordon pushed off the side of the pool with his good leg, kicking gently as he swam beneath the water, circling his father's legs. Grinning slightly, the ten-year-old positioned himself behind his dad's back, before breaking through to the surface with a loud gasp and a splash. Jeff jumped, startled, and spun around quickly. Catching site of Gordon, he powered through the water towards him, grabbing him around the middle and dragging him over to the side. He then proceeded to tickle the exposed ribcage with skilled digits, chuckling as Gordon screamed with laughter.

"Hey John! Dad's taken Gordon captive!" Virgil yelled, swimming towards the struggling pair. "Let's get him!"

Jeff released his hold on the giggling copper-haired boy, diving back under the water and pushing himself away from the wall. He swam as close to the bottom of the pool as he could, avoiding John's long legs as the teenager began treading water beside Gordon. Escaping to the far corner of the pool, Jeff broke to the surface, sucking in a huge breath and running a hand over his wet hair to keep the water from dripping in his eyes.

"Over here, boys!" Jeff yelled, grinning as three heads turned in his direction. "You'll have to try harder than that to capture your old man!"

Jeff immediately regretted saying this, as he suddenly found himself being attacked on all sides. John's arms grabbed him around the shoulders, trying to dunk him under as the other two boys splashed at him mercilessly. Spluttering and grinning, Jeff fought them off as best he could. After a while, he held up his hands in surrender and allowed himself to be dunked under the water, knowing that his sons would eventually beat him anyway. He may have had the advantage in height, weight and strength, but they were young and energetic. Plus there were three of them, and only one of Jeff. His defeat had been inevitable.

Pulling himself out of the pool, Jeff grabbed a towel and dried himself off quickly. Dropping down onto the sun-lounger closest to the poolside, he watched as Gordon happily swam about the pool, his strong and confident strokes allowing him to cut through the water with ease. Considering the fact that he hadn't used his left leg in six weeks, he was doing rather well for himself.

Sighing, Jeff lay back on the lounger, gazing up into the orange-yellow sky. For several minutes, he admired the mixtures of colours that seemed to swirl around in a deep haze above him. Virgil's picture had looked almost exactly like this sunset, only better. Somehow, Virgil had managed to put the joy and happiness into the pastel lines, showing a whole different interpretation of the sun setting. Before, Jeff had merely thought of it as the mark of the end of another day. But now he knew just how much more there was to this simple lanscape view. The beauty, the passion, the love that concealed itself within the endless skies, waiting to be sought out and captured. Serving as a reminder of the joys experienced in the day, a celebration of all that had taken place.

Suddenly, Jeff's brain registered the fact that the sun _was _actually setting. Realising that a greater amount of time had passed than he first thought, he glanced down at his watch, shaking the water-droplets off the plastic screen and peering at the numbers beneath. _It's 21:13 already? Man, time really does fly when you're having fun. Hmm, I'd better get Gordon off to bed, it's way past his bedtime._

"Gordon." Jeff called, standing up and walking to the edge of the pool. "It's time to come out now, kiddo. I hadn't realised how much time had passed. You should have been in bed a while ago."

Gordon looked up at him, his copper hair plastered to his head as droplets of water trailed down his face, and nodded in submission. Jeff could see that the young boy had worn himself out from all the activity, his movements as he swam towards the edge of the pool being far slower than before.

Once Gordon had heaved himself up to sit on the edge of the pool, Jeff helped him to stand to his feet, handing him his crutches and wrapping a towel around his shoulders. Guiding him up the steps, he reminded Virgil that he was also due to go to bed within the next fifteen minutes. Virgil nodded and heaved himself out of the pool, chatting happily to John as he dried himself off. Smiling, Jeff lead Gordon into the house and towards his bedroom. After leaving the boy to change into his pyjamas, he peered into Alan's bedroom to make sure that the five-year-old was sleeping peacefully. Thankfully, it appeared that he had not been plagued by nightmares so far this evening.

Jeff was glad of this small blessing. A week or so following the incident with the storm, Alan had begun to experience nightmares. At first, they were just simple 'bad dreams' which required nothing more than gentle reassurances and soft words of comfort. But two weeks ago, there had been another storm over the island. It had not been a tropical storm, just a mild thunderstorm. However, the claps of thunder and the sound of the rain as it fell upon the island had awoken the fears and the memories of that dreadful night. Consequently, Jeff had been awakened in the middle of the night by Virgil, who had been sent by Scott to fetch him. The eldest Tracy child had, in turn, been awakened by the terrified cries of his younger brother. Thankfully, Scott had managed to calm Alan down enough before the boy hyperventilated. But still, it had been a frightening experience for all of them. Jeff had insisted that Alan sleep in his bed for the following few nights, just in case another nightmare occurred. But it appeared that, despite all the trauma and worry, Alan was recovering just fine on his own. And, with Scott's bedroom only two doors away, Jeff was confident that Alan was in safe hands.

Walking back into Gordon's room, he smiled to see the copper-haired boy already getting into bed, his crutches propped up against the bedside table. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, he patted his son's left leg gently.

"How does it feel?" he asked, pulling the duvet up and over the ten-year-old's body. Gordon shifted slightly and frowned up at him.

"Weird." he stated. "It feels so light. And everything that touches it feels odd, too."

Jeff smiled as he tucked the covers around the small form. "It will do, for a while." he sympathised. "But that'll change soon. In a few days, you won't be able to tell the difference."

Gordon sighed and snuggled down into the pillows, smiling as Jeff ran a hand over his slightly damp hair. "Did you brush you teeth?" the father asked. Gordon nodded and grinned, revealing a neat row of white teeth.

"Good boy. Alright, kiddo. Sleepy time." Jeff murmured, rubbing Gordon's back gently. The copper-haired boy smiled up at him sleepily.

"Yes, commander." he mumbled, his eyelids drooping. Jeff chuckled, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on Gordon's brow.

"Goodnight, little fish." he said fondly. "I love you."

Gordon sighed in content, closing his eyes and relaxing into his father's touch. "Love you too, Dad. 'Night."

Standing up, Jeff made his way towards the door, pausing as he had done before to glance back at Gordon as he lay quietly beneath the duvet, the pull of sleep winning its battle to overcome him. Smiling, Jeff pulled the door closed behind him, knowing that his second-youngest preferred sleeping in the dim light. Suddenly, the sound of Tracy One's jet engines could be heard faintly as they approached the island. Walking to the set of double doors at the far end of the hallway, Jeff slid one open and stepped out onto the balcony, closing it softly behind him. Putting his hands on the rail, he leaned against it and sighed, his eyes gazing far out across the expanse of ocean in the distance.

He watched as Tracy One arrived at the island, descending steadily before it made a perfect touch-down on the runway. Satisfied that his eldest child was once again safe at home, Jeff allowed every inch of himself to relax, closing his eyes and inhaling the rich, sweet smells of the jungle. His eyes began to grow heavy, and he let out a soft chuckle.

_I'm getting tired in my old age. But the years are going by so quickly. I mean, Alan turns six in a few weeks. And after that, the older three are going back off to boarding school for the new semester. They've been taking the home-schooling lessons with Ms. Young for the past six weeks, but it can't continue that way forever. However much I want them to stay with me on the island, I have to make sure that they get a decent education in a good school. Besides, Scott wants to join a soccer team like he did before, John will probably run track, and Virgil - well, Virgil's a kid of many talents. I'm sure there'll be plenty of activities to amuse himself with at Wharton's._

Rubbing a hand wearily across his face, Jeff sighed again, thinking of his two youngest children as they slept peacefully in their beds, safe and sound for the time being._Who would've thought that I'd ever be at peace like I am now? The pain's still there, I won't deny it, but the other emotions - the happiness and the love - have coated it in a warm outer shell. I don't think it will ever leave, but I think that this coating will continue to thicken as time goes on. Maybe - just maybe - one day it'll get to the stage when I don't even feel it anymore. I'll be conscious of it's presence, but it won't affect me as it does now - as it has done in the past. I won't allow myself to get to that stage again. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. My children have seen to that._

Watching as the huge orange orb sank into the dark haze where ocean met sky far, far in the distance, Jeff inhaled deeply. _I've got to be the luckiest man in the world. I've been given a second chance that I don't deserve. I've been blessed with five wonderful children, each of which is so precious to me, I can't put it into words. But above all, I've been given such a sense of inner peace. A peace that I thought I would never be able to find after the accident occurred. After all that pain and loss. But, I did, thank God. I was saved from falling over the edge, and for that I will always be grateful._

Straightening up, Jeff pushed himself away from the railing, staring out at the reddy-orange sky. He smiled softly, walking towards the doors and resting a had on the handle. Glancing back up at the sunset, he sighed in content.

"Goodnight, Lucy." he whispered, before turning around slowly and stepping back into the house, the door sliding closed behind him.

Far out to sea, where the technicolour ocean met the orange of the sky in a hazy line, the bright yellow sphere sank beneath the horizon and out of sight, signalling not only the end of another day, but the happiness and hope of the next morning. Though the storm may come, and the forces of Mother Nature may battle against the light for dominance, no force is strong enough to contain the sunrise. In the same way, although troubles and difficult times may fall upon a family such as the Tracys, no known force could ever be powerful enough to contain the one thing that binds the six family members together;

Love.

_- THE END -_

* * *

**_And thus ends 'The Price of Paradise'. Did you enjoy it? I hope you did. It's always hard to finish off a story, so I hope the ending was alright._**

**_I want to say a big thanks to all of you for continuing to read my work and support my writing endeavors! You're constant encouragement was a great help, and it was wonderful to know that my work was appreciated by so many people. Okay, as there are quite a few reviewers this time, and you're all so wonderful, I will just pick out a couple to thank personally._**

**_Lissysue85 - for being a wonderful friend and a great help through all the tough times, even when you were having troubles of your own. I really appreciated our daily chats, and this end chapter is dedicated to you as further proof of the point I made earlier. They're always there for you. Thank you for being such a great help, you're the best!_**

**_criminally charmed- for being a great critic throughout the whole of this story. I loved our little banters and 'arguments' over spelling issues and typos. I'm glad you paid close enough attention to notice them, you certainly do a better job than my useless brother (who I have now sacked). Lol. Thanks, buddy! You rule!_**

**_My big brothers - for being generally awesome, even when you do steal my laptop. Thanks for the chapters that you did beta-read for me, even when you did miss all the major typos. It's the thought that counts, right? And furthermore, you guys are my inspiration. A girl couldn't ask for better siblings. Love you guys!_**

**_The rest of the reviewers - I wish I could write a personal thank you for each of you, but there just isn't enough time. I want to get this posted before tomorrow. Lol. So thank you - all of you - for being such great reviewers. The comments you left me were always encouraging and positive and I owe you guys for pushing my lazy butt into updating early. Hee hee. Thanks, guys!_**

**As a note, my next story will be posted on Tuesday or Wednesday at the earliest. It takes place shortly after my first fic 'Smothered By Your Brothers', and is a tale involving the 'devilishly handsome' Dr. Palmar, and all of our favourite characters. I won't give too much away, but yes, it's another hurt/comfort/family fic. I've gathered that people quite enjoy these, and it's what I love to write best. So, I'll see you in a few days, guys!**

**_PLEASE REVIEW! You know the drill. Make me smile. If you make me cry (for negative reasons) I will not post the next story. Lol, just kidding. Who cares what you write! (well, I do actually. Never mind, ignore me. I'm tired.)_**

**_Love you, guys!_**

**_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_**


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